Abaddon
by OblivionsEcho
Summary: A world where Gods rule above all else in a world torn apart, and it's citizens are caught in the middle. How can a group of young warriors learn what it really means to fight, and take control of their fates to stitch the world back together?
1. The New Beginning

**Chapter 1:**

 **"** Sir, enemy forces have defeated our first battalion stationed outside the capital with ease and are proceeding to break their way through the wall. Reinforcements are rushing now to back up our troops at the gate."

A nervous scout is shaking on his knees as he updates his commanding officer on a battle raging on in their city. The man in charge of him is wearing a set of heavy dark blue armor, with a matching sash hanging from his waist to show his position as a general of the royal army. The General slowly grabs a gigantic shield off of his back and rests it with the bottom point on the ground, shaking the room with a loud thud as he does so. "Do you think me daft?"

The scout flinches as his boss grabs for his weapon and questions him. "N-no sir. Of course not sir. I'm just doing my job."

"I know the state we are in, soldier. Your job is to defend your capital and fight for your country, now grab a sword and fight with your brothers and sisters," The general says swinging his massive shield, knocking back the man.

He picks himself up and holds his side in pain. "B-but I'm not trained for combat. I'll die out there." He squeezes these words through his mouth as he strains to get his breath back.

"And why the gods is that my problem? As a soldier of Aodirn you should be willing to give your life to your land. So once more, arm yourself and get on the battlefield. Or would you rather I put you down here by my shield instead, coward?"

"... No sir, I'll be off to the front lines at once," He turns and walks towards the doors of the large castle they're in and grabs a random spear off the weapon racks lining the halls.

"Good choice," The general says to himself watching the young man limp to his end. He turns around and places his giant shield onto his back again. He begins to march off to a corridor in the rear of the castle and grabs one of the many bottles of ale that are sitting around the room, and gulps it all down.

"General Ferdinand!" The loud clanging of Ferdinand's blue armor caught the attention of a much younger man who was making his way down from the second story of the colossal castle. The young man rushes down the stairs to greet Ferdinand, and join him in walking down the corridor. He was a handsome man with curly blonde hair that complements his emerald eyes and armor. He was in stark contrast with Ferdinand, who was the definition of an old grizzled war veteran. They had nothing in common. One was a pretty boy who fought from afar with a bow on a horse, the other a behemoth of a man with long untamed hair and beard. Though they did share two things; Their remarkable prowess on the battlefield, and the sashes they wear that show their position as generals.

Ferdinand throws aside the now empty ale bottle, and opens a door that leads to the basement. "Alexei," Ferdinand greets plainly.

"I'm glad to see you. I just received some bad news," Alexei says "Apparently the transfer ritual isn't going to be ready for a soul as powerful as the king's for at least another three hours."

"We'll be lucky if we can stall Osibir's siege on the castle for two hours, there's no way we can back them off for another hour on top of that!" Ferdinand yells.

"Yeeeah, there in lies the problem. The king is consulting with the sages as we speak to come up with a solution."

"You're problems are much larger than you think," A powerful voice says behind the two generals.

They both whip around and close the door to the basement to see a man in the standard guard armor and helmet. Alexei sneakily reaches for his lower back where is bow is sheathed, in case he needs to ready an arrow.

Ferdinand tenses. "What do you mean?..." He asks forcefully.

The guard senses their hostility and rests his hand on his sword's hilt. "You all will loose this war and burn for your sins,"

"Heresy!" Alexei yells grabbing an arrow from it's quiver, and locking it back. "State your name and commanding officer!"

"I serve the true rulers of this continent!" The guard yells slashing his sword at Alexei.

Now the real battle was not trying to hold back forces at the wall of the capital, it was raging on within the walls of the king's own castle. Real guards were clashing blades with impostors in an attempt to survive and keep them off the king's trail, so he could escape. For decades the rival kingdoms had feuded. But Osibir had finally had enough and chose to invade and put an end to the king of Aodirn's unprovoked attacks, and treacherous rule over his own people when they received word that the king was going to perform a ritual to make himself an unstoppable warrior with the powers of a god.

Mere feet from the doors to the basement, where the King is, Alexei and Ferdinand are struggling to hold off that single mysterious man in disguise. They take turns blocking his attacks, and trying to hit him with their own.

Alexei repeatedly draws and shoots his bow at the man, aiming for the weak points in the joints of his armor. Meanwhile Ferdinand tries to ram the opponent with his shield. The man is too fast and agile for either of them too land their attacks. He bounds over Ferdinand's giant shield and slashes at him from the back, somersaulting over him. The close quarters aren't fairing well for the archery attempts on their foe. Alexei desperately empties his quiver in shots of three arrows at a time.

The man sees this as an opening and leads Ferdinand to charge at him. As the shield draws closer he slides underneath and stabs at the back of Ferdinand's knee. Alexei shoots a handfuls of arrows towards the legs of Ferdinand to strike the man as he comes out from under him. Instead the man uses the large armor on Ferdinand's back as a launch pad to boost himself off. The old warrior falls to the ground as the intruder jumps off him, causing the sword in his leg to dig in deeper. When he collides with the ground he opens his eyes for a split moment to see Alexei's arrows flying straight towards him. They soar true through the air, stopping only when they pierce Ferdinand, sending his soul to Hell.

While Alexei is frozen in shock from killing his comrade, the man lands behind him and grabs the bow from his hands. He pulls the bow over Alexei's head and loops it around, pulling the bowstring tight around the neck.

"Emperor Damon... Please... forgive..." Alexei struggles to force out a final prayer as he reaches to try and pull the string off his neck. The man reaches and pulls out a small thin dagger from a hilt on Alexei's hip. To insure the death of his target is certain the man pulls the bow closer and swiftly stabs Alexei in the chest, sliding the blade through the ribs, and piercing the heart.

The man in the guard uniform throws the cadaver over towards his deceased partner, and whistles a tune to alert the other soldiers fighting the actual guards that the path to their objective, the knight king of Aodirn, has been found.

Several minutes go by, and the last of the castle guards have been picked off. The soldiers left all regroup around the basement entrance and prepare to charge on the king. The one leading them is the same man who took down the two generals at the door, only now he was out of the disguise and in his own armor, if you could even classify it as that. He wore a tight pair of pants, with basic sandals, and a beautiful necklace with feathers and beads, yet no shirt. He was an older man, but not quite as old as Ferdinand, likely in his forties. Numerous traditional tribal tattoos covered his torso and arms, and his hair was dark with it intricately braided all the the down to his back. His eyes were a light brown, the same shade as his skin. They gleamed as he peered at the door, ready to face whatever was lurking behind it.

"Chief Ashur, everyone is here, and ready to strike," A random soldier informs their leader.

"We charge at once," He commands.

Ashur holds his hand out in front of him. As he does this the tattoos on his body begin to glow a bright white, lighting up the dim room and blinding the soldiers. The tattoos fade until they give off a faint glow of light, except on his hand, where a small flame has appeared. The flame grows in his hand and becomes a large rod of swirling fire. Ashur close his hand around the flame and it extinguishes into a cloud of smoke, leaving behind a curved blade in his hand.

His tattoos light up again as flames cover his arms and his sword. Ashur points the blade at the door and sends a fireball at it, blowing it off it's hinges. He sprints forward through the door, his blade ready to strike, and his army following him.

They run down a long stair well that opens into a large room, almost as big as the main hall of the castle they're all under. It's dimly lit only by candles in the room, and a small glint of light in the center of the room. As the soldiers eyes adjust to the darkness they see the contents of the room. Covering the ground is a magic circle with three rings, each getting smaller the closer they are to the center, drawn entirely in blood. The space between the middle and outer ring has the dead bodies of four elderly people laid inside it. Between the middle and smaller circle are runes burned into the stone floor.

The smallest, and inner most circle, is elevated on a small stand shaped like a pillar. Inscribed on the top of the stand is a sigil lustering a faint shade of crimson red. Resting atop the stand are two objects. One is a chalice nearly drank dry, and a empty rack for a sword.

"Would one of you be willing to examine the scene?" Ashur asks his men.

"Yes sir, we'll investigate at once," A soldier says stepping forward, several others following them.

"Thank you, and please, take great care," Ashur becomes lost in thought after saying this. He looks closely around the room, taking care to watch closely where he steps. Peering across the room he notices one of the large stones that make up the flooring jutting up slightly out of place.

Ashur treads lightly as he moves toward the out of place rock, suspecting it to be the entrance to an escape rout King Damon may have used. He crouches down to put his hand on the stone, but before he can lift it up one of his soldiers approach him, to inform him of their findings.

"Chief, apon inspection we haven't been able to shine much on the ritual. None of us can translate the runes, nor understand the meaning of the sigil. But we have sent a scout back to the castle with the cup, so that they can test the contents."

Ashur holds out his palm to sense the ground under the stone for the presence of magic, feeling nothing. "And what of the bodies?"

"Completely hallowed out, sir. No magic energy, no soul, no trace of any life force, nothing."

Ashur registers what the soldier says, but doesn't respond. He grabs the edge of the out of place stone and pulls it up revealing a small hole. After lifting up several bordering rocks Ashur unearths the entire hole, and what's inside. He reaches his hand down, and pulls out a severed forearm. Then leg. Then upper arm.

One by one Ashur and his men uncover the pieces of a dismembered woman, with the biggest parts at the bottom. The second to last part is the head of the unfortunate woman. She was a beautiful woman who's face caught the attention of everyone in the room. It becomes stagnant in silence as everyone stairs at the head, until a single soldier speaks up to ask Ashur a question.

"Sir... Isn't that Aodirn's queen?"

"It appears so," He responds. Ashur closes his eyes in concentration, asking himself countless questions. "None of this makes sense... How could that rat have escaped, and where is he now if this isn't an escape route?!"

"We'll look into that right away sir. I'll go take some men to examine the perimeter of the castle," A soldier says leading several other up and out of the castle.

Two other higher ranking soldiers step forward, one gazing back into the hole, the other approaching Ashur.

"So Chief," The one soldier starts. "Why do you think Damon would put down his consort like this?"

"I've no clue," He answers. "But what really confuses me about that is this; If he was going to get rid of his wife, why now? And why would he do it when they were just a couple of months from birthing and heir?"

"Well this makes that question a lot more complicated," The other soldier says im a grim voice pulling out the last body part from the crater, the queen's blood drenched torso.

"What do you mean?" Ashur asks in a grave tone.

"There's a very rough gash across her stomach. The baby's been removed and there's nothing else down the hole but blood..."

Ashur clenches his fists, fighting himself for control of his anger. His tattoos glow a blinding white as his arms burst into flame, and sparks of electricity dance across his skin. "Damn it all!" He roars.

The fire spreads swiftly across his entire body, and his eyes are now the bright glowing shade of white being emitted from his tattoos. Ashur looks over at the soldier who had pulled the body out of the hole with his radiant eyes, and yells at him a question. "Well then tell me," Blood drops from his clenched fists as he growls those words from his gritting teeth. "If it's not in the damn hole, where's the baby now?!"

...

"There's no way I can do this shit! This isn't some game!" A young man says in a fit of rage. The man shakes his head in denial and tries to find a way out of the situation he has put himself in.

A large green hand collides with the teenager's face, causing him to snap to his senses and leaving a prominent palm shaped red mark on his pale face "Get a hold of yourself dammit!" This strong deep voiced command comes from a green behemoth of a man. "Quit being stubborn and listen to me for once in your life, Jordan. I've raised you since you were baby, I know what you can and can't do. That's why I'm being completely honest with you here."

Jordan rubs his aching cheek and looks at the man who raised him. He had some interesting features, not the least being his jade skin and staggering height, standing at at least seven feet tall easily. He also had pointed ears, and his "mark", a blue tribal design going around his left eye and across his nose. All were characteristics present from his birth, signifying the variant of eleven race he is. Jordan was hoping for at least some advice from him. Or an offer to help him against his opponent ahead. Maybe motivational speech? He'd really go for anything at this moment.

"Your odds here aren't good. At all. I probably won't be surprised at all if you fail here, no matter how humiliating the loss. In fact if anyone ever hears of this fight and how you lost, I will most likely have to deny the fact I ever had anything to do with your life to prevent my existence from being a laughing stock just because I knew you."

"But?..." Jordan asks looking for more.

"But we have no other choice. You need to do this. Even if you don't stand a chance now, nobody else ever would," He says back.

"Whelp shit, glad to know I'm loved," Jordan says sarcastically turning his attention back to the problem at hand.

"Yep, with all my heart," The tall man says jokingly putting his hands together in the shape of a heart.

"You're a real shitty dad, y'know that, Lesser?"

"Never claimed to be a good one," Lesser says pulling his hands away each other in the motion of a breaking heart.

Jordan shakes his head once more to brace himself. He slicks his black sweaty hair back out of his face, his foe reflecting in his eyes as he wastes his time. They await Jordan's first move before advancing. Before he lunges into battle Jordan switches through his weapons, trying to think of the best strategy he can, finally deciding on his trusty sword.

Finally he moves slowly towards his final and most overwhelming challenge in his journey. Once the moment is right Jordan strikes, swinging his sword relentlessly at his enemy. The opponent isn't even phased at the onslaught of attacks, shrugging them off and readying his attack. They grab a hammer off their back and raises it before bringing down swiftly where Jordan is standing.

He runs to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack, but getting knocked off balance from the shockwave in the process. Jordan struggles to move so he can dodge the next strike, but can't manage to and gets knocked back by a hammer swing. He runs in closer, hoping to get behind his opponent and strike from there, using his speed to get the edge.

Sweat runs off Jordan's face as he charges with all the will he has. He swings his blade as he swerves around his foe, only to be blocked by a rock wall they summon to defend their rear. Jordan bounces off the wall unable to react. While Jordan is ricocheted off the stone barrier his enemy raises their hammer and sends it crashing down once more, landing atop their target this time.

A thick vile silence hovers for several seconds after Jordan's loss, until deep bellowing laughter can be heard followed by chilling words of pure anguish.

"And they were never heard from again..."

 **GAME OVER**

 **"** Fuck this stupid ass piece of shit game!" Jordan yells toward a television he had spent the last several hours a few inches from, trying to beat the final boss of a videogame. "That is waaay too hard of a final boss! How is anyone even supposed to beat that?!"

Lesser groans as he lifts himself up off the hard ground he'd been sitting on. He reaches over to a windowsill next to him and grabs an almost empty can of beer he was enjoying alongside Jordan's suffering. Finishing the last couple sips of the alcohol he crushes the can and throws it behind him where it lands next to the two's mountain of boxes they never unpack, since they move around so much.

"Beats me, man. You can keep playing if you want, just try to keep it down."

"You goin to bed already? It's only 9:30," Jordan asks Lesser as he walks towards his room, taking off his shirt and throwing it into a pile in the corner, not caring enough to shut the door behind him.

"Yeah, I got a new job that starts early tomorrow. It's a really good job, pays a lot too. So it's important I get my rest and I'm not a zombie on my first day," Lesser answers as he ties his straw colored hair back into a pony tail, and takes a couple sleeping pills.

"Wow, new job right off the bat? No interview or nothing?"

"That's what I said, but I'm not complaining. We need the money, and getting such a high paying job right after I got fired from the last one is lucky to say the least."

Jordan moves over to their game system and switches games to something less infuriating, boots it up and beings playing. "So what kind of job is it? Sounds pretty cool if there's no interview and guaranteed high payroll." He continues to asks questions while paying attention to the game.

Lesser lays on his "bed", which was in reality a couple towels on the ground and attempts to get comfortable enough to sleep. "Teaching."

A chime is heard from the television as Jordan freezes from shock and dies in the game. "You... Teaching?... Like kids? Don't you need a license to do that?"

"Teenagers actually, not sure if that makes it better or worse though. And I guess not."

"What kind of class do they have that requires a giant green elf man to teach a group of angsty teens?" Jordan blurts out laughing.

"Fighting," Lesser answers sitting up. Jordan quickly stops laughing and focuses. He'd never known a better fighter than Lesser, he taught Jordan everything he knew. If there was one thing not to joke around with Lesser about, it was battle.

"Are you familiar with the advanced battle program the academies have?" Lesser turns the tables by becoming the one asking questions.

"Um, no. You taught me only what you thought would be important for me to know, and somehow that managed to slip through the cracks."

"Basically, every year on tomorrow's date kids sign up to try out for a spot in this program. It's really tough to get in, so only the strongest are the ones who actually make the cut. There's a big tournament and everything for it right here in the capital city, where they hold the competitions to see who makes it, and is placed in a team with some other kids and a skilled teacher. Apparently this is the first year where anyone who was born in Aodirn before it was taken down and it's land added to Osibir 16 years ago will be eligible for the program. So they hired me having heard of my skills and wanting someone who was born and raised in Aodirn as well."

"And you're gonna be leading one of these super strong teams, except with Aodirnian kids? But isn't that kinda messed up to hire you just so they can group you all together?" Jordan asks with mixed emotions.

"Yeah, it's racist. But what are you gonna do about it, people are still scared from the war. Can't help that," Lesser trails off into silence, then looks at his foster son. "Look kid, I didn't just take the job for us so we can have more money. I want you to compete in that tournament tomorrow."

"Um, excuse me? You alright man? I figured I'd be the one with the fried brain right now," Jordan jokes, trying to shrug off what Lesser just said.

Jordan looks back at Lesser from the game and sees his dark eyes locked onto his, as if he was trying to bore a hole into Jordan's skull. Lesser was as laid back as people got, rarely ever getting serious about anything other than fighting.

"Not kidding. I think you'll get in with ease. And when you do they'll likely put you under my teaching."

Jordan gulps. "Gonna have to pass. Never been one for school, or stuck up asshole kids. And I especially don't want to mix those two together with you as the chef."

Lesser lays back down on his miserable bed and faces away from Jordan. "Tournament starts at noon tomorrow. I already signed you up, so be there by ten or eleven, and don't stay up too late. They provide equal equipment for all combatants, so don't bother bringing your own weapons or armor."

Jordan sighs knowing he won't be able to talk Lesser out of this, so he closes the open bedroom door and heads back to his games for a while until he heads to his own room to sleep.

A couple of hours go by as Jordan sinks his face into the television some more. Somewhere into the third hour though his eyelids begin to get heavy. Then he begins to doze off while playing. Eventually he gets so tired he falls asleep on the ground in front of the game.

Darkness is all Jordan can see as he sleeps. Stuck in a dreamless slumber without so much as an image, which was quite out of the ordinary for him. Some nights he would fear closing his eyes because of the wicked nightmares he'd endure. A plain night's rest is something he rarely enjoyed, and always welcomed.

Hours of much needed sleep comes to pass for the young man, but that doesn't last much longer when the end of the night draws near. A sudden high pitched cackling pierces Jordan's ears, causing him to launch open his eyes and jolt up.

Jordan's stands primed with his eyes focused to attack anyone who might've broken into his home. When he does he's greeted with pitch black, rather than the bright sun he expected from the early morning. A field of darkness spreads for a distance that is indistinguishable to Jordan, who is more worried about seeing his hands or feet than is environment.

He hones his ears to try and track the voice of whomever woke him up. He stands for a few seconds without any results, then suddenly he can hear far away yelling. Jordan readies to run at the person thinking it might be the same one who was laughing. He makes it just a few feet before stopping, hearing a second voice. He tries to walk stealthily towards the voices, attempting to make out their words.

The language was foreign to him, but he didn't need to know what they were saying to realise the two people weren't happy with each other. He gives up on the voices, and continues stepping until he can see a faint yellow glow, reveling the silhouettes of the two people, one of which seemed to be the source of the light.

As Jordan's feet reach the ground from his final steps he can see the person with the yellow light put their finger on the other's lips and shushing them. Jordan's heart drops as he watches this. The two people remain silent for a moment before the illuminated one takes their finger off the other's lips and lets out that familiar high pitched crazed laughter for a minute until it's reduced to a sinister chuckle.

With a loud cracking the two people turn their necks suddenly towards Jordan and stare at him though the darkness. They both raise a hand in unison and gather their magic at their palms into a large ball, never taking their eyes off their target. The person who was being lit by the other person throws their magic directly at the ground, exploding into a dense smoke that burns Jordan's eyes and lungs with only a second of exposure. As Jordan coughs the smoke out of his lungs and rubs his eyes he can sense the other magic rushing towards him. He lunges forward and rolls, nearly dodging the attack with it crashing into the ground behind him and blowing away the smoke.

As the smoke dissipates and Jordan's eyes get adjusted, he searches for the yellow gleam again. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees the silhouettes again, focusing on them, and turning to face them.

"Behind you," Jordan quietly hears one of the people say as the charges towards them.

"Huh?" He asks turning his head to see behind himself, just in time to see several shards of glowing glass fly from where the magic landed and pierce through his back, causing him to stop in his tracks and crash into the ground.

Jordan now lay face first on the ground, blood running down his side and pooling under his stomach. His face wincing trying to cope with the unbelievable pain of the glass digging into his back as he breathes. Through his clamped eyelids he can see the yellow light appear suddenly by his side brighter.

Through the loud hard beating of his heart Jordan can hear the evil chuckle of the person before they clear their throat to speak to him. "Ah Jordan, it is truly a tremendous pleasure to finally speak to you in person... Kind of," They struggle to constrain another laugh. "How I wish we could simply sit and chat the remainder of the night away together. Oh, but we don't have time for that now do we? No no no, not this time sadly. Perhaps next time we meet? I would enjoy that so. I do hope we can arrange that sometime and that you'd be entertained by that as much as I would. But alas this encounter has a purpose, which is to make sure you don't die too early on us," They burst out another loud laugh.

It's obvious from their voice to tell that they are a man. They speak with a deep suave voice that echoes in the ears, which goes against their same screeching laughter. The strange glowing man wraps up another laughing fit and grabs Jordan's hair, pulling his limp aching body up to look at his face.

"Aww, did we go too rough on you for your first time? I'm so sorry, but it pains me to say that it was necessary. We couldn't have you forgetting what happens, you see?" They smile blissfully at Jordan's grimacing face. They stare and purse their lips in confusion towards the twisted face of the boy he's torturing, leading him to more ominous chuckling. "Can't have you dying too early on us, remember?" The man grunts pulling his leg back then kicking, plunging his foot directly in Jordan's diaphragm full force.

Jordan wails in anguish as he tumbles through the black plain he's trapped in until he lands twenty feet from the man who kicked him. He impacts the ground on his back with a loud thud, and sliding several more feet, sending the glass even deeper into his flesh, ripping and tearing it further. His eyes flare open along with his mouth as he coughs even more blood across his body. All remaining voice leaves Jordan's body as he lay on the ground, along with all hope and confidence, with the wish of an end to all of this sudden suffering to end filling the void in his heart.

In an instant the glowing man reappears, this time sitting atop Jordan's chest, hastening the movement of the fragments of glass inside of him. Through the tears of pain rushing out of his eyes Jordan tries to get as best a look around as he can with the minimal light. Only the man resting on him was there, the one who made all the smoke nowhere to be found. The man's features are still indistinguishable, even with the yellow light behind imitating behind him. But Jordan can see a few things to identify the the person toying with him, he has pale skin, and lengthy dark hair, as well as several ring shaped piercings in his ears reflecting what little there is. The only other things not hidden by the darkness are two thin objects hovering behind him.

The twisted man peers down at Jordan while a single greasy long strand of hair falls to his face. They reach down and place their right on the boy's chest, causing him to wince instinctively. They pick up their hand leaving only the index and middle finger in contact with the crimson stained torso and begin walking them up the chest, over the next, across the face, all the way up to Jordan's forehead.

The man's eyes start to light up a bright yellow menacingly, the same as the glowing behind him. As his eyes begin to luster even more pain comes to Jordan as a sharp stabbing pain aches where the man's fingers are on his head.

Jordan's own eyes let out even more profuse tears to cascade off his face, accompanied by the melodic lamenting of his suffering. The man sighs in sadness watching Jordan cry in agony. He leans down toward his face, stopping just before the lips. He opens his mouth, letting out his long thin tongue and begins licking up Jordan's blood, continuing up to his eyes, doing the same for the tears. He trails his tongue across several more times then brings his mouth to Jordan's ears and whispers into them with his intense sultry voice. "No more crying, Jordan, your pain tortures me as well, but I just can't bear to see your weeping. Hold out but for a few more seconds, the worst is almost over for the time being. I'll insure everything is alright."

The man finally removes his fingers after just a few more seconds, as he promised. The pain fades quickly from Jordan's forehead, subsiding to a pulsing headache. The weight on his chest is alleviated as well once the man takes himself off his body, standing up and facing away.

With his tears wept away by the tongue of the person toying with him Jordan can now focus in and make out the objects floated behind the man's back. The two mystery objects emitting the dim ominous golden light are jagged and stiff, yet seem to be moving.

Jordan moves his eyes down to his chest, imagining the glass inside his body, putting together that it's likely the same thing that makes up those gleaming things.

The man looks over his shoulder, snickering once more. "Admiring my wings? They are quite beautiful, aren't they? Took me such a long time to craft them just right from my magic stably. Hopefully you'll get yours soon as well now that we've had our first connection. Every angel gets their wings at some point after all," He caresses his shimmering wings.

"Which reminds me..." He holds out a hand causing a glass bottle to spontaneously appear. "Can't have you causing anyone to die yet either."

Raising his other hand toward the sky every shard of his glowing glass wings whip and whirl around it, turning his sleeve into shreds, and ripping apart his arm, covering it in gruesome gashes leaking thick silvery blood. Lowering the arm once more he catches some of the blood rapidly flowing off in the small glass vial.

He plugs the bottle with a cap which also spawns in his hand, and bends down to place it in Jordan's pocket.

"And with that I sadly must go. But I must be strong, we will encounter one another soon enough. Now wake, otherwise you'll be late for your competition. Good luck my darling... My sweet sweet Hibiki"

With a blinding flash from the blinding wings Jordan lurches forwards, banging his head into the windowsill, eyes flooded by the light of the sun instead.

"Fuck!" Jordan yells grabbing his head.

He checks his head for a bruise or cut, not feeling anything, and standing up back in his living room. The words and actions of that winged man still burn in Jordan's mind. Not wanting to risk anything happening to him, like in the dream, he inspects the home. Every room in the small house cautiously looked into.

Once everything has been checked and deemed safe Jordan takes a more comfortable stance, ending his search in the kitchen. Jordan looks down to the table in the kitchen, where a plate of breakfast was prepared by Lesser for him, along with a note.

"Scarf this shit down, and get your ass out there. See ya at the arena, better win!"

"Thanks man, really fills with me with joy," Jordan says sarcastically sitting down to eat his meal before heading out toward the city coliseum.

The sun is hot, beading down upon the capital city, making for the perfect wearer to hold the outdoor entrance competition. It doesn't take Jordan too long to arrive at the arena, especially the herds of people flooding there to watch. Nearly the entire country watches this event, and it's the aspiration of many children to participate when they come of age.

As Jordan walks through the doors and grabs what's needs to compete he can hear the voice of the commentator over the speakers, welcoming and directing the people where to go.

He walks towards the changing room and puts on the generic clothes all combatants must wear. Its a simple outfit, with only a pair of black pants with a matching shirt, a pair of sneakers, and a jacket with the insignia of the local combat school. After he's equipped adequately, Jordan walks down a hallway into his predetermined waiting room for his group, being group B, and lays down in the first empty seat he can find amongst the 100 people in the room. Matches didn't begin for another 45 minutes, and while others were warming up, assessing the other competitors to make a plan, or just talking, getting some shut eye was Jordan's target.

"Hey, um, sorry, but I was sitting there..." A girl speaks up amongst the chatter of the waiting room.

Jordan opens his eye slightly to see the girl talking to him. Standing in front of him is a short and pretty Asian woman. Her skin is tanned, and she has dark brown hair. Jordan shuts his eye again, shrugging her off and acts like he didn't hear her.

"Ugh, look, can't you just go sleep somewhere else?" She persists in an annoyed tone.

"Can't you just find another place to sit?" Jordan rebuttals, raising an eyebrow with his eyes still closed.

"No actually, I'm supposed to be waiting for someone here, smartass."

"Couldn't you just wait for them somewhere else?" Jordan asks finally opening his eyes, and sitting up straight.

"No." The girl puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head getting increasingly frustrated. "Because, I need to meet them here, and you don't need to plant your lazy ass here to sleep."

The girl stands and stares and waits for Jordan to get up as he leans back to defend his spot.

"Whatever, take the seat. I hope you over sleep and miss your match," The girl turns around and behind to walk away. As she does this Jordan begins to shut his eyes, but notices a gleam just before they close. He focuses to see that on her waist are several dagger sheathes, all very ornate and expertly crafted.

"Hey, wait!" Jordan calls out to the girl.

She stops and looks over her shoulder. "What now?" She angrily asks.

Jordan pauses before speaking. "I was told you weren't allowed to bring outside equipment, so what's up with those beauties on your belt?"

"Oh, well you aren't. Not unless you filled out all the right forms to allow it before hand that is. It was a lot of work, but I did it for every last one of my blades,'" The girl explains before starting to wall off again.

"I see, well they seem very nice from the outside," Jordan says standing up. "Take the seat."

"Huh?"

It'd probably be best if I didn't make any unnecessary enemies before this dumb competition starts, so take the seat."

"Uh, thanks?" She says, taking her spot back to wait for her friend.

"Don't mention it, and good luck," Jordan says walking away, and waving behind him to the girl.

As Jordan walks away from the interaction with the girl to find another spot to rest, eventually settling to just lean against the wall, the last few remaining competitors trickle in for group B. With everyone accounted for the tournament coordinators waste no time getting things started. It only took about fifteen minutes before all of the television screens in the arena and waiting rooms turned on, and the speakers began blaring.

"Hello, and welcome everyone, to this year's Osibir battle institutions entrance tournament!"

The tournament audience screams and wails in excitement, breathing life into the entire giant stadium, filling in for the silence of the nervous competitors behind the scenes.

"Now, let's not waste time, and see what the group order is this year!"

More excitement comes asfour cards appear on the screen, each with a letter, and begin shuffling themselves. The arena falls silent as the cards stop moving and are laid face down on the virtual table.

The man over the speaker begins to talk again, in a much more suspenseful tone. "And the results are..."

The four cards flip over all at once to reveal the order of the groups.

 **B**

 **D**

 **C**

 **A**

"Of course," Jordan grumbles to himself, rolling his eyes.

"Okay group B, time to suit up!" The announcer says eagerly. "While they're getting ready allow me to explain the rules to anybody who us unfamiliar with how this rolls. This is a bracket style tournament, where the winners of each one on one match go on to fight one another. One important thing to keep in mind however is this, there is no elimination, the losers simply fight fellow losers, for a fair chance at acceptance in case they simply were randomly placed against someone who's magic counters theirs, or something else similar happens. Each player is judged not only by their place on the bracket, but also by their skill, as observed by our amazing line of judges. Allow me to introduce them now!" On the screens appear three men in tow judging booth, as well as one empty seat places above them.

The first person zoomed in on is a dark skinned, middle age man with short and curly black hair. He wore a dark purple robe, and matching pants. "First we have the amazing Chief Kato of Ather'Oppa! Son of the former Chief Ashur, the man whom led the main charge on castle Aodirn sixteen years ago, he inherited much of the strength, skill, and magical abilities his father possessed. One of the strongest fighters in the world, and the son and student of a living legend, Kato is truly a force to be reckoned with. Which makes the fact that his son is one of the competitors this year just that much more terrifying!"

He laughs gleefully and leans forward to speak into his microphone. "Thank you thank you, it's amazing to be here judging again this year. And here's some advice for all of you aspiring warriors, you'd be wise not to doubt my son," He laughs again and his deep voice echoes amongst the arena.

"Up next we have the headmaster of the academy and founder himself, Headmaster Ebony! Another person with a role in the war sixteen years ago, Ebony was a general in the royal army before deciding that he had gotten a bit too old for the front lines. But don't let that fool you, he could wipe the floor with most youngsters. And putting the strategy forming, magic using, and battling experience he gained from the military, he went on to found the first training academy."

Ebony was a big olive skinned man, standing over six feet, and had a very muscular build, especially for a man in their sixties. His mustache and hair were a shiny silver from all his years, and tied back out of his face. He spoke out in a stern yet sincere voice.

"Yes, I am excited to see what this batch of the next generation has to offer. Fight well, and do what you have to in order to win. Good luck to you youngsters."

"Well said, Headmaster! And finally, last but not least, his younger brother, Cardinal Ivory of the magical church! Both a man of faith, and a researcher into the various magics, Ivory is a highly intelligent man who is going to be critical of your use of magic, kids!"

The final man on the screen, Ivory, wore a traditional white religious cloak that almost appeared to meld with his pale skin, as well as a hat which covered his hair.

"Indeed I am, though by no means am I unfair. Just do your best and you'll be fine in my eyes."

Ivory was a much smaller man than his brother, and much younger, at least by twenty years. He is slightly taller, but has almost none of the muscle Ebony has. Ivory exuded positivity and spoke with a smile, another contrast he had to his brother.

"Those are our judges, ladies and gentlemen!" The announcer yells over the speaker as the screens focus on him and another man in a both above the arena. "And of course providing the play by plays, and color commentary is yours truly, the hilarious and handsome as always, Jamil. I'm also joined in this endeavor by the slightly less hilarious and handsome Zion. The two of us are the top students of the school's second year attendees."

"Hey," The other young man announcing flashes a big smile and gives a thumbs up towards the camera. "That's me."

Jamil, the other young man, grabs his microphone and begins yelling into it once again."And with that, all of the introductions are out of the way, so I hope all of you are ready in group B, because the first match is being randomly generated now and it could be any one of you!"

The screens go back to the scene of a deck of virtual a deck of cards on a table, begining to shuffle all of the names of the competitors in group B. Nearly every person in the country had their eyes locked on a screen as the very first match of the tournament was being determined. The atmosphere at the coliseum was still, yet full of energy, like a crowd watching a bomb to see if it will be a delayed explosion, or simply a dud. The air seemed especially thick in the waiting room Jordan was in. Sweat beading off of the faces of every person in there. Even Jordan, who had announced the fact that he couldn't care less, was still focused on the television, eager to see who would be called down first to the arena, and praying it wouldn't be himself.

The cards stop shuffling, and two are pulled from the top of the deck, then placed on the table face down. The remaining cards in the deck fade away in the background to focus on the two cards. With a flash the two cards are flipped over to reveal the pictures and names of the first two combatants in the entrance tournament.

 **Jeremy**

 **VS**

 **Jordan**

Jordan picks himself off the wall and walks down the hallway, to the entrance of his side of the arena. His head hung, and his steps echoing through the quiet waiting room. The eyes of every kid in group B glued on him.

"And there we have it! Jeremy and Jordan, get your butts down there!" Jamil yells through his microphone.

Excitement roars from every person in the arena, causing the very earth to shake from the announcing of the first fight. Jordan stands in a concrete hallway, experiencing the energy first hand, the shouts echoing past him, the lights shining down the cold dark corridor as he waits for his que to emerge and fight. Some of the best fighters and mages in the world were competing in this tournament along side him, and Jordan had no clue what to do about it, all he could do was stand in the walkway wait, and wonder. Wonder what kind of magic he would be going up against. Wonder what strategies he would have to implement in order to win. Wonder just how strong this Jeremy guy he was about to be facing is.

Once the applause and hollering resides to a controllable level Zion speaks over the speaker to introduce the two fighters. "Now, it is time for us to get this ball rolling. Everyone please make some noise for Jordan!"

The audience picks up once again and lights begin to flare in the coliseum. The doors fly open in front of Jordan and he takes his first steps out. He walks along a long stone path leading to a large raised platform where the battles would take place. Looking through the crowd Jordan tries to find where Lesser would be watching him from, finally finding a large shaded platform high above the arena opposite to the judges.

Dozens of teachers were seated, eagerly waiting to observe the children they would be training. Lesser was easy to find though, amongst all of the different kinds of people who taught, he was the only one of his kind there. Not an uncommon occurrence for him, being one of the last of his kind, it was extremely rare to find another Elf of his kin. Lesser was standing against the guard rail, looking down at his student taking his first steps in a new adventure. And though Jordan's training by Lesser had lasted for as long as he could remember, he'd never taken on another person in a situation like this before.

"I almost feel bad for this kid," A tall white man with long black hair walks up beside Lesser, and leans on the tail along with him. The man brings out a box of cigarettes from a pocket inside of the expensive looking suit that he is wearing, takes one and begins to smoke it. He takes a puff and holds out the box of cigarettes and lighter to Lesser, offering one to him.

"What do you meant you feel sorry for him?" Lesser asks in a disgusted tone, pushing the man's offer away.

"Peace Elf, just let them introduce the kids. Then we'll talk about how Jay is gonna win." The man takes another puff if his cigarette, and peers down to the battlegrounds waiting for the other child to walk out.

Jordan takes the final steps up to the battling stage and stands as one of the announcers introduce him.

"Seemingly coming from nowhere Jordan is entering the tournament to hopefully get accepted into a training academy after only receiving personal training and education his entire life. Because of this there are no records of his fighting capabilities or what magic he uses. It's anybodies guess how this fight is going to go, but it's sure to be a good one, Especially given who he's going up against!"

On his signal Jordan's opponent, Jeremy, walks from his side of the arena to the platform. He has a tone physique with dark shoulder length hair and black glasses, but he wasn't wearing the black uniform they had every other person wear for the fights. He wore a white dress shirt and tie, with dress pants and shoes. His clothing gave off a cocky atmosphere which was furthered by his walk. He took long confident strides as he walked to the battle platform, waving to the crowd and rolling up his sleeves as he did so.

"Yeah, this is definitely going to be interesting to watch," The other announcer starts. "Jeremy is the heir to one of the wealthiest and most powerful families on the continent, and as such, been in some of the highest battle institutions in the country as well up to this point. He is absolutely no stranger to competitions of this sort at all either, often taking first place in local tournaments. So give it up for him one more time before we get this show on the road, Jeremy everyone!"

Above the two children the suited man continues his conversation with Lesser as the people in the stands go wild. "You see, Jay is my kid, and I've hired the best warriors money can buy to teach my kid," He finishes the last breath of his cigarette before throwing it down into the crowd without a care and turning to face Lesser. "So there's no way my boy can lose. Y'know?"

Lesser scoffs at Jay's father, looking down at the two kids, with confidence in his own. "Eh, I don't know. Personally my money's on Jordan."

"Interesting choice of words," Jeremy's wealthy father reaches back into his suit pocket, pulling two shot sized flasks. "You must be a teacher since you're up on this terrace, which means you're kind of a big deal too right? Honestly I just paid for an amazing seat like this. And see, I'm not too sure about this Jordan kid myself. I mean, he looks edgy as all hell, but that doesn't say much for power. So how bout we make a friendly wager?" He hands one of the flasks to Lesser.

"I don't have much money though. Don't really care much about making a ton of it either obviously, since you see me here teaching."

"Well then how about land? I have much more than just bills in my possession you know."

Lesser looks at the alcohol, then taps his flask on Jeremy's father's, and taking the shot. "What the hell, cheers."

At that moment Jeremy reaches the platform and takes a bow before the bout for the audience.

"Hey, Jeremy, right?" Jordan yells to his opponent across the way.

"Jay is fine," He response rising from the bow and fixing his tie.

"Aight, well good luck, Jay,"

Jay looks across the platform to Jordan with a confused face. "Why are you wishing me luck?" He asks.

"I mean, that's the respectful thing to do before a match like this, right?" Jordan questions back.

"I guess so," Jay answers. "But you're gonna need that more than me. No offense, but I'm just naturally way above the rest of you. Matter of fact, I bet my life savings I could probably finish this round in under a quarter of the allotted time," He laughs in an arrogant tone that he speaks in also.

Jordan puts his hands in his jacket pockets and takes a relaxed pose. "Kay, I'll take that bet on. Time allowed is thirty minutes, either of us win in under seven and a half and we gotta give up our life savings. Deal?"

Jay quits his laughter and looks over once again with that same curious expression. "Excuse me?"

"That's what you said right? You bet you can beat me in a quarter of the time."

Jay pauses, peering out of the corner of his eye to see his father above in the risers nod subtly. "You're funny, kid. Alright, deal's on."

The crowd goes crazy at this, causing one of the second year announcers, Jamil, to comment. "Wow, I don't think there's ever been two competitors who have made a bet before a battle in the tournament! This is gonna be awesome, start the clock! And make sure you mark that seven and a half minute mark too!"

Around the arena all of the screens change to a timer with thirty minutes and start counting down with a blaring airhorn noise to signal for the fight to begin.

Jay makes the first move, summoning a rope of fire and hurling it at Jordan. It wraps around his ankles, and sends him flying towards Jay as he pulls him, ready to hit him with another flame attack prepared in his hand.

As he's pulled and flying through the air Jordan twirls his body, planting his feet on the ground, stopping his movement right before his opponent, and grabs his arm.

Jay attempts to counter by blasting the fire into Jordan's face, but ends up working against him. The blast of the flame boosts Jordan's attack, shifting his weight down and throwing Jay over his shoulder, causing him to land on his back. As Jay gasps from having the wind knocked out of him Jordan plants his foot on his downed foe, and with his arm still in his grip, twists it with a loud pop from the now out of place shoulder.

Jeremy yells in pain, heating up his body to where Jordan has to let go. Using a maneuver like the one Jordan had against him, Jay uses a burst of fire from his good arm to whip around off the ground, and nail a kick right into Jordan's side, knocking him back.

As Jordan regains his footing again Jay traces a simple magic circle on the ground in fire. The small magical rune zips along the floor to underneath Jordan, exploding into a scorching pillar once it reaches him, launching him skyward. Jay leaps into the air wincing in pain as he does, and drops a fiery kick on Jordan's back, pounding him back down to the hard ground, still aflame from the circle.

Jay grabs Jordan by the shirt and in agonizing pain raises him off the ground, with the same flame attack ready that he attempted to use earlier. Placing the flaming hand on Jordan's face, Jeremy increases the power of his fire. The blaze getting increasingly hot until its a bright blinding blue is held on Jordan's face as Jay waits for his prey to submit.

With only two minutes until the bet time is out Jordan is still standing, enduring the infernal assault. "Ready to give up?" Jay asks arrogantly and proud of his power. He removes his hand in hopes of revealing the singed face of his humiliated opponent, only to show a scene much more embarrassing to himself.

Jordan is still, hovering in the grip of his foe, taking the relentless barrage of fire directly to his face. All while at the same time accidentally sleeping through every second of it from his lack of restful sleep the night before.

"Are you seriously snoring while I'm unleashing my straight magic to your head?!" Jay yells angrily, waking Jordan up.

He yawns and stretches his arms, still being held up. "Sorry man, you wouldn't believe the dream I had last night."

Jordan grabs the hand lifting him and pries it away, crushing it in his fist. Jay kneels in pain, heating up his body again, but to no avail this time. Jordan's grip stays locked tight on his hand, driving further down into the ground until the point that the stone platform cracks from the pressure.

"And if you were letting out all of your pure power just now, you really would've just been better off not making that bet," Jordan ends the fight with a rising kick to Jay's jaw, lifting him up, before headbutting him back through the air and off the platform.

The crowd is ludicrous. Applause and cheers can be heard from far and wide coming from the coliseum as the first battle of the entrance tournament concludes.

"That was spectacular! Do we have confetti?! We better have some confetti! Launch some damn confetti for the man, because he is the first winner of the tournament, and he put on a great show!" Zion the announcer yells in the bustling arena without the need of a microphone, and at his request Jordan is rained upon by colorful confetti. "What to you think of this Jamil?"

The other announcer grabs his microphone and places a hand on his chin in thought. "Hmm, I see. Well to start with the most obvious thing, Jordan one the magic without a single use of magic from what I could tell. Which is even more impressive when you look at the clock and realise he did this all in about seven minutes, which is enough for him to win that pre-game bet."

"Yeah, that's true. And what's really impressing to me was his ability to take those powerful fire hits without even needing to be awake, but also being able to turn around and break a bone like a twig," The other commentator ads. "It's going to be great to see him advance and fight other winners, and I'm excited to see what else he has in store, and to see how the judges ranked him. But for now, give them both a great sendoff while they wait for the next round."

With that the audience blares once again with glee while Jordan retreats back to his hallway to the waiting room, and Jay is carried to the clerics at the tournament for healing.

All of the people in the stands are so loud that they even cover up the furious bellowing yells of anger coming from Jay's father, who has gone off on a fire spewing tantrum after watching his beloved child be defeated. "How?! How was Jeremy taken down so easily!?" He shouts, turning to lesser with even more fire radiating off of his body. "And how did you know that kid would beat him?!"

Lesser looks at Jay's father and flashes a giant smile while holding up the contract to his new land. "Well Jordan's my kid, and I've trained him personally all his life. So there's no way he could lose. He's been trained by the best warrior that even money can't buy," He says mockingly.

Eventually security has to escort Jeremy's ballistic father from the coliseum before causing harm to anyone, causing Lesser to gain even more enjoyment from the situation.

"Hey kid, ya did good out there!" Lesser turns around and yells down at Jordan giving a thumbs up. Faintly making out Lesser's deep voice amongst the crowd Jordan responds by raising up a peace sign before getting lost from sight down the hallway to waiting room.

The arena fades into obscurity behind Jordan, only making out the shouting of the names of the next two people who were randomized, being Nicole and Matt. Not caring enough to watch how the battle unfolds Jordan retreats back to Group B's waiting room, welcomed by a mix of admiration and applause which he didn't care about, and awkward silence and dirty looks, which he cared equally little about. Yet the thing to stick out in his mind most was to find the seat he fought over earlier empty. The thought of if the girl met up with her friend yet lingers in Jordan's mind before deciding to take the seat for his own again, and drifting off to sleep once more, desperately wanting some rest.

Despite the noise around him Jordan does finally manage to block out the world around him, and fade into his dreams, the coliseum becoming nothing more than an empty quiet place for him to hopefully pass out.

Until the depths of his dreams are pierced by laughter, as if it was a dagger being driven into his skull. "That was sensational, darling. I couldn't have asked for more, my sweet Hibiki..."


	2. That Was Not To Be Expected

Hey guys, sorry I took so long updating the story. I've been working with Solomon, Solo, Dawningfang, Itzzsolomon, whatever the hell he goes as now, to try and make these chapters as good as possible in our universe, but we both have realized it was taking a lot longer than expected to make these things. We had also planned to cross promote our stories by releasing them on the same date. However that didn't work out because he is unfortunately a lil bitch and updated his on the fourth of May instead, without giving me any heads up or anything. So basically moral of the story is, I hope you enjoy the chapter, don't read his (mine is way better anyways), leave all feedback, as usual, and have a great day. Peace ;]

"C'mon, really? Now of all times?" He asked to himself, awaking in another empty plain. Scarlet was the color of the hellish world he found himself in on this occasion.

"WRONG!" Jordan hears an angry man shout behind him. He turns to see two men whom he saw last time, one seemed to be made of smoke, with it making up his entire figure and flowing off his body to reveal nothing else, and the other was the same man with the glass wings as before being knocked to the ground.

"WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!" The smokey man repeats, slashing at the other's chest with a blade of flames each time he yells.

"Please Verréckt, listen to me," His crazed laughter bursts from him as he screams for the one he called Verréckt to stop.

"YOU WERE COMPLETELY WRONG!" Verréckt hollers furiously, plunging the blade into the man's chest. "How dare you request anything from me!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You're being too rough with me! Hear me out, I beg of you, Verréckt! I can hardly breathe!" The impaled man shrieks amidst his lacrater, struggling to control his breath.

"Did you not understand me, Luth?! You failed me! You're lucky I'm even giving you this time to speak."

"I'm sorry, truly," The "man" named Luth stands up and pleads, pulling the sword from his chest. "I didn't think that there would be anyone weak enough to keep the child from needing to work in such an important tournament."

Verréckt grunts angrily, still not appeased by Luth's excuses. "You said that you accounted for EVERY possible thing."

A pair of dark smoky wings form from the smoke flowing off of Verréckt's back, and smack Luth, knocking him on the ground again.

As Luth tumbles to the floor he drops the blade, dissipating and reappearing in Verréckt's hand. "So what are you going to do now?" He points the sword at Luth's neck.

"You're one hundred percent correct, I did say that," He says nervously picking himself up and stumbling over his words. "But I will ensure everything is on our side this time. I'll even give up my turn and let you take control since you didn't get yours."

"And how am I realistically supposed to trust your word?"

"Well I don't have much choice but to make sure all goes well, don't I?" Luth says giggling. "So your verdict?"

"You've wasted my time enough, you get it set up right, and you take care of it yourself. I have my parts to take care of, which if I might add, would already be done if you had done yours correctly."

"Look assholes I'm kinda busy at the moment. Not to mention I'm pretty damn tired because you two messing around in my head while i dream, and that's not a good mix. So it'd be in your best interests if you guys just get out and stop making me seem like a crazy man. Aight?"

Now more the wiser to this particular dream, Jordan didn't hesitate to confront it, especially because he had more important things to be focused on, at least according to Lesser. However unlike the last time he was with them Jordan didn't seem to make any impression on the two hellish beings who had maliciously assaulted him the previous time they invaded his mind.

"Hey!" Jordan walks toward the men to attempt to dispel them from his head, speeding up to a run as he gets closer. "I told you two to fuck off! What do I take medication for if I can't get two annoying monster guys from freaking me out when I sleep- Waa!"

Suddenly a colossal quaking sensation takes over the vermillion realm, throwing Jordan to the ground. He recovers and lifts his head to see Verréckt, the mysterious smoky figure, and watch him disperse, flowing away like a swift wind, taking his colleague, Luth, with him, then encompassing the space around Jordan with the same dense smoke he used to attack him the last time he slept.

The thick, dense, smoke envelopes him, swirling throughout his lungs, blowing into his eyes, staining his skin, causing his entire body to burn.

Jordan's body collapses, straining to breathe, only to choke and cough on what was left of Verréckt.

Everything halts.

He blacks out.

Jordan jolts up to another man vigorously shaking his body. "Hey there, you're finally up," Jordan observes his surroundings. He is back in the waiting room for the magical Academy's acceptance tournament, in the same seat he took to rest after his bout with the hot headed wizard Jay. "The first round just wrapped up, the results are posted on the screens if you're interested. You were awesome by the way." The man says with an eager smile, no doubt he won his match.

"Uh, thanks," Jordan responds rising out of his seat, paying no attention to the actual person who had congratulated him. Instead he was focused on one of the various magical screens lining the large waiting room.

The results were extensive and lengthy, due to the shear amount of people participating. Jordan reads through the names, seeing the previous matches, who won, and who they were up against next, searching for his name and the person he was going to be facing in the round to come. His eyes focus on one column of matches.

 **Mesta V.S. Genesis: The victor is Genesis: Next match: Mona**

 **Mona V.S. Cara: The victor is Mona: Next match: Genesis**

 **Kalu V.S. Trey: The victor is Kalu: Next match: Solomon**

 **Nick V.S. Solomon: The victor is Solomon: Next match: Kalu**

 **Jeremy V.S. Jordan: The victor is Jordan: Next match: Nicole**

 **Nicole V.S. Matt: The victor is Nicole: Next match: Jordan**

 **Stryde V.S. Can: The victor is Can: Next match: Eboni**

 **Eboni V.S. Asterisk: The victor is Eboni: Next match: Can**

"Damn…" Jordan says to himself under his breath. "I was really hoping I wouldn't have to go up against a girl." The scene of himself and Lesser getting beaten up in a drunken stupor by an attractive, and even more aggressive sniper woman the last time they went to a bar plays in his head, before a sharp blistering pain in his head cuts that image short.

"The announcers just said that first match of the second round was going to start shortly. You're up second, so you might want to go in the waiting room to prepare. Try not to fall asleep though," The man chuckles, putting his hand on Jordan's shoulder.

"Oh, alright," Jordan starts to walk away with a hand on his head, trying to ease his headache. He carelessly shoves people out of his path, then making his way down a long hallway away from the blaring noise of his peers and the overly eager tournament announcers, to whom he pays no attention to. About halfway through it Jordan collapses from the pulsing pain in his head. Even trying to support himself on a wall Jordan can't muster the strength to stand and walk to the preparation room.

The world begins to twist and spiral around Jordan, becoming blurry and faded. The sound of the speakers, relaying the voice of the color commentators turn to muffled nonsense.

"Geez, that was fast!"

"You got that right, Zion! And just like that the second round's first bout is over with a swift finale!"

Jordan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes tight. "Over already?"

Everything focuses as he opens his eyes, revealing a clear world as it should be. Taking his hand off his head Jordan stares at it, wondering what had happened. The sounds of of cheering and yelling had returned to their regular incessant and annoying state of clarity.

"What a way to start the second round!" The voice of the more chipper announcer named Jamil squeals from the intercom. "Solomon advances to the next round!"

Jordan shakes his head and pockets his worries for the moment, saving them for later. "I gotta get my ass out there," He kicks it into high gear, jogging down the long concrete hall where he encounters one of the people who works for the school.

"Hey kid, where were ya? Dun know if you were aware, but the next round is about to start."

"Yeah, sorry. Won't happen again."

"Better not. Nobody is gonna wait on ya. Decide to take your sweet time next round and they might just call it a forfeit. That's assumin' you even make it past this one. Everyone may have been real impressed by ya shenanigans last round against the pyro, but doin' somethin' like that again could cost ya, just cause you wanna show off and decide to not use magic."

"Well I'll take that into consideration next time I'm winning," Jordan says cockily, wiping the sweat off the shaved sides of his head, and tying the rest of his greasy dark hair back.

"Whatever ya say kid," The man says rolling his eyes, sticking his hand out of the door in front of them to signal that everything was ready.

At that moment one of the large magical projection screens appear before the two showing the two young announcers in their booth with a layout that read "Jamil Aforo, elite second year student/ announcer" and "Zion Harris, elite second year student/ announcer" respectively.

"Hello once again everyone out there, as usual, I'm Jamil, one of your beloved color commentators for this year's Osibir Magical Academia entrance test!"

The crowd whoops and wails in excitement.

"And I'm Zion, the funnier and more attractive of the two!" The announcer jokes. The crowd laughs and applauds the mediocre joke and the two speakers take over again. "I know you're all excited for this match, just as much as I am, because this is gonna be a wild one."

"Indeed my compatriot, wild it shall be. However, before he get ahead of ourselves, now is the perfect time to get those of you just tuning in up to speed. Let's begin by introducing our judges once more."

On Jamil's cue the image on the magic monitor switches to a view of the three judges. "On your left is chief Kota of Ather'Oppa, one of the strongest and proudest villages in the kingdom of Osibir."

Kota rises from his seat and bows towards the crowd as to say hello. "I'm as happy as can be to be judging the next generation this year. Good luck to all of you."

"On you're right is the honorable Cardinal Ivory of the magical church of Osibir," The professional looking man waves his hand and nods his head. " Hello all, this has been a great experience so far, I'm looking forward to observing the rest to come."

"Finally we have the man who has made all this possible, Headmaster Ebony!"

The headmaster took a deep breath and a hardy gulp of his ale before clearing his throat. "Ahem, thank you. This year has been especially entertaining so far, I'm proud of every last one of you, even if you are not admitted to the academy this year."

"Beautifully put, all of you," Jamil says. "Oh, but what's this?" Zion exclaims.

At that moment the screens change to show a view of a hallway door above the judges. As this happens loud trumpets begin to play through the speakers, and a beautiful young lady begins to make her way out. The crowd loses it, clapping and screaming cascade through the arena.

"That's right! For the first time ever we have a very special judge, Osibr's very own warrior princess, Hikari, the heir of light."

The princess was an attractive black woman with dark braided hair, no older than most of the combatants in the competition this year. She wore an elegant flowing light blue dress that swayed as she walked towards her seat.

"So she's here? They must really be pulling out the big guns for this thing," Jordan thought to himself as he watched the screen, getting ready for his fight.

As the princess takes her seat the screen changes focus back to the two announcers where they begin to speak again. "Well this sure is exciting, now I'm all set for this next match, how about you crowd?!" Even more energetic than before, the stadium floods with the echoes of impatient audience members, ready to watch the next fight. "For those of you who missed the previous fight, it was a battle between two childhood friends, Kalu and Solomon of Ather'Oppa, which ended in a speedy and blazing victory for Solomon."

"I guess that will happen when you know all there is to know about one's magic after years of fighting them."

"I suppose you got a point there, but I for one am much more excited for this next fight."

"And why is that, Zion."

"I'm glad you asked, Jamil, that's because we have two amazing combatants about to duke it out. Let's bring em out now!"

"Get ready kid, you're about to go on after this chick," The arena employee says to Jordan.

"Firstly we have the violent beauty, Nicole, with her blinding expertise with her blades she could sever your arms from your body and disappear into the shadows before they even hit the ground. I definitely wouldn't want to get on her bad side."

"Guess it's my turn?" Jordan says in response to the clapping welcoming Nicole to the battling stage.

The man nods and motions out the door. "Yup, G'luck out there kid,"

Jordan walks through the door blinded for a moment by the bright afternoon sun, then continues to walk down the stone path, and up the stairs to the raised stone platform. "Now here's why I'm really looking towards seeing the outcome of this fight. Everyone make some noise for her opponent, Jordan."

"If you can recall Jordan is a sort of mystery card in this tournament. We hardly know anything about this kid, only having access to the knowledge that he was personally taught and trained at home, not even revealing his magic in the last round, where he defeated another kid who is known locally as a great fighter without breaking so much as a sweat. Let's see if he lets loose this time!"

Jordan takes the final few steps up towards the stage where he is met by his opponent, who stumbles back a step and appears to be taken aback, showing a surprised expression and letting a small sound escape her lips.

"Oh hey, it's you," Jordan says looking across the platform to the girl he would be fighting. It was the same girl who had approached him about the spot he was napping in before the previous round.

"Uh… Hi. Didn't expect to be seeing you again."

"Same here. Say, did the person you were waiting for ever show up, or did I get woken up for no reason?" Jordan jokes.

They both laugh for a second. "No, they came," Nicole looks down a slight blush covering her cheeks. She shakes it off and looks back at Jordan with an intense look of burning determination. "But that isn't why we're here."

"Heh, well alrighty then. Goodluck," Jordan says, taking his fighting position.

"You too," Nicole responds, putting her hands on the two daggers at the sides of her hips.

"It seems that after a few words Nicole and Jordan are ready to duke it out. So let's give them what they want. BEGIN!"

Nicole opens up the fight by flicking her knives out of their sheaths with the tips of her fingers and launching them at Jordan who dodges them both. Next Nicole rushes to Jordan, remaining close to the ground. Jordan notices this, and shifts his weight to kick her, but before he can lift his foot off the ground Nicole whips around, sliding around Jordan on the ground.

Jordan stumbles to regain his balance to go on the defense, but Nicole is already on the other side of him. He begins to turn his head to face his opponent, and as he does so he hears two loud snapping sounds behind his head.

Somehow Nicole had the two blades she threw at Jordan back in her hands. "I can tell just by looking at how you carry yourself," Nicole spins, lashing the two blades at Jordan who stumbles his way back to barely avoid the whirlwind of slices. "You're too confident in your abilities. I'll cut you down to size."

Feeling a trail of blood make its way down his arm Jordan takes a fews steps, keeping a distance between the two. Jordan looks down at his cut to see how bad she had cut him. It was a small gash, but enough to sting as he moved. His eyes focused on another knife flying towards him as his head rose, followed by Nicole bounding at him, this time staying on his level as opposed to staying low. With minimal reaction time Jordan grabs the knife from the air, and jabs downward, blocking one of Nicole's slashes.

She twists her balde out of the deadlock and goes for another attack. Jordan focuses on her hand and prepares to block again. He swings his arm in to block her knife, and knock it from her grip.

As the two daggers clash with tremendous force another unexpected powerful snapping sound can be heard. Jordan is launched back, sent flying to the edge of the stage, and in the knick of time catches himself enough to hit the ground and prevent himself from tumbling off the edge off the platform.

"The fuck?" Jordan murmurs, shaking his hand to rid it of the stinging pain of the blast. He lifts his gaze once more to watch as Nicole flips through the air and lands effortlessly with her hand out. She stands staring at Jordan, kneeling on the ground in surprise, then her focus switches past him. Her blade goes soaring past his face, gashing his cheek.

Jordan holds the side of his face in pain, yet keeping his gaze glued on the woman in front of him to see any other attacks that may fly his way. The knife that had cut him continued to fly directly above her open hand. The knife's hilt had been surrounded by a transparent sphere which burst as it reached Nicole's hand, dropping it into her grasp.

"Bubbles?"

"Orbs!" Nicole yells. "Saying my magic is to make bubbles is really diminishing, y'know!" Nicole puts her arm out, summoning two bubbles directly by Jordan's ears, then popping them to stun him.

Jordan flinches, closing his eyes. As they open again he sees Nicole careening down towards him, both hands equipped with her razor sharp daggers, right on course to pierce Jordan. However, adapted to her tactics, instead of trying to avoid or counter her attacks, Jordan goes directly on the offense, twisting his body and shifting his position, landing a hard kick straight to Nicole's diaphragm, knocking the wind out of her and knocking her focus off. Jordan reaches for her arm, grabbing it and turning himself and throwing her right towards the ground past the battle platform. In a last ditch effort Nicole forms another bubble at her free hand and points it at the ground before she goes out of bounds.

This bubble was different, it was less clear, and smaller, though the main difference was it's color. This bubble of Nicole's was a bright crimson red with what appeared to be a swirling pattern on the inside. As this bubble popped it released much more energy than any of the others, exploding in a great fireball, and sending both Nicole and Jordan flying without any control.

Now flustered from being struck with a sizable hit from Jordan and still feeling it Nicole was left flustered. Both her and her foe were left dazed on the ground, but only momentarily. That instant may be the only chance she could have for the rest of the fight to come up with a way to seal it in her favor.

As fast as she could Nicole stood back on her feet and snapped both of her fingers, bringing back and dropping her two main knives, as well as releasing several others from hidden sheaths in the sleeves of her jacket and the legs of her pants, which were held by numerous small bubbles minuscule enough to keep from being noticed by anyone who didn't already know she was packing them.

One by one each of Nicole's knives hit the ground, totalling in at least fifteen. Jordan was still in the process of gathering himself after the blast of Nicole's explosive bubble. After the "ting" of the first few knives hitting the ground he looked to see Nicole standing perfectly still.

"What could she be doing?" Jordan thought, doubting such a determined foe would forfeit.

Just then in the blink of an eye dozens of black opaque bubbles encircled the arena and Nicole dropped to her knees from exhaustion. She coughs and lets out several large huffs. "It's like I said… You're too confident in your strength to even resort to whatever magic you may have. Unlike you though, I know my limits, and you are actually decently strong, another hit like that and I may just be knocked out."

Jordan picks himself up, standing tall, ready to strike and stop whatever attack Nicole had been getting ready.

Nicole coughs a couple more times. "But you're nothing compared to Solomon, and I've fought him plenty of times. I'll end this round with the move he helped me make!"

Jordan bolts forward, sprinting at his opponent full force, but is stopped when Nicole detonates her attack. All at once the dark bubbles rupture leaking a thick, dense, and noxious smoke that quickly takes over not only the battleground, but the entire coliseum, rendering everything unseeable.

"What is going on down there!? I can't see a thing?!" the announcer, Zion, yells through the speakers in an otherwise quiet arena thick with not only smoke, but the tension of what could happen from here, and if this was truly the finale of this battle.

Looking around him, trying to peer through the smoke and see anything Jordan thinks to himself, recalling a particular moment. "Wait a second…"

As fast as he can Jordan turns directly around staggers his feet, and plants them firmly on the ground. He transfers all of his weight, pushing off his rear foot punches in front of him with as much force as he can.

From Jordan's punch shoots a deafening high pitched sonic boom, the force of which immediately dissipates the smoke, revealing every single one of the knives heading straight for what would've been his back, and send them spiraling back to Nicole.

Jordan jumps off the ground with another tremendous sonic boom directly at his foe, flying past her, then blasting her down into the ground with another burst of sound to her back.

Sent flying above, high in the air by his last attack jordan propels himself back down, landing on top of Nicole, pinning her.

"Who is Solomon, and how did he teach you that!?" Jordan demands, emitting an ear splitting screech from his hand, causing Nicole to have to cover her ears.

Nicole desperately blasts off Jordan with a sudden small fiery bubble. Once Jordan is off Nicole hustles away, still holding her ears in pain.

"Who is he?!" Jordan blasts a small wave knocking Nicole to the ground. "I was attacked with that exact same strategy before! I need to know how this guy is connected!" Jordan continues to yell with all the air in his lungs.

Suddenly Jordan finds himself unable to take a breath in, and after only another second on the ground. He tries to blast a sound wave at the disheveled and distressed Nicole, that however, is also fruitless. With the last of his energy he makes out a single sentence from the mouth of the beaten girl. "No sound in a vacuum bubble." And Jordan collapsed.

Or so it seemed.

In an instant his eyes shot open, a blinding amber light shining out of them, and he pounced at his opponent. Jordan forced his way through Nicole's last defense and stared at her across the battle platform. Taking a steady stance again Jordan watched as Nicole's face changed to that of wide eyed terror. He punched forward into empty space again, but instead of a powerful shockwave of sound, this time the metal beam inside of the concrete battle stage, which was meant to provide support, bursted out and rushed right for Nicole, hitting her body straight on, sending her rocketing out of bounds and embedding her into the stone wall next to one of the entrance hallways.

"It's all over! In a spectacular spectacle of power Jordan takes the win!" One of the announcers belts.

The crowd goes insane over the conclusion of the fight, celebrating with more energy than in the entire rest of the tournament so far, applauding both of the young fighters abilities.

Blinking several times as his eyes return to their natural mix of gold and mainly green Jordan puts both of his hands on his head in agony as he gets a mysterious abrupt pang in his brain. He hadn't realized it from all of his adrenaline, but in the final moments of the fight his head was pounding from the same ache as before the round, and got severely worse once it was over. Almost as soon as the feeling got worse however it seemed to fade away into nothingness. Looking back on how he felt Jordan also realised that in the moment he had felt much lighter and more dexterous.

Reestablishing his focus on the present Jordan gets his first good look at what he had done to Nicole with his finishing blow, which in and of itself he didn't remember much at all either. His entire body floods with guilt as her body dislodges and falls from the wall. His feet boost off the ground with a boom as he lunges with outstretched arms off the raised platform, reaching her head just in time to protect it from slamming against the hard ground.

"Are you okay?" Jordan asks in a shaky worried tone, completely disregarding how angry and worked up he was about the move she had used against him which parralled the one the strange men in his nightmare used against him,

"I'll be fine, I know a good cleric. Man, I don't know how you did it, but you really handed it to me there," Nicole respondes, brushing off Jordan's hands.

She winces in pain as she moves, causing Jordan to hang his head. He closes his eyes, guilty for all of the harm he had caused to the girl in a simple tournament. As Nicole moves Jordan's arms out of the way he feels something strange move in the pocket of his competition issued jacket. Reaching in he feels something that was not there before, and with all logical reasoning should not have been in there. Pulling it from the pocket revealed the object as the glass vial that the wicked "man" Luth had filled with his own viscous silvery blood, and gifted to Jordan in his nightmare.

Jordan pushes all the questions he has to the back of his mind regarding this, such as how that could be possible if it was truly just a dream, or why it would even be in that jacket when he was wearing his personal jacket in the dream, hoping Lesser may have the answers he was looking for.

Another sharp pain strikes his brain, this time only lasting a second, as he comes up with a cruel idea. Jordan gulps in disgust as he hands Nicole the small glass bottle. "Drink this…"

Nicole takes the bottle and unplugs the top, looking down into it. "What is this stuff, Mercury? You tryin to poison me?" Nicole jokes, swirling the vial and its contents.

"J-just drink it, kay?"

Nicole looks skeptically at Jordan, then back at the bottle. "Y'know, I'm putting a lot of trust in someone who just beat the crap outta me," She puts the bottle up to her lips and throws her head back, downing the contents in just a couple gulps. "That doesn't happen often either, so don't get the wrong idea."

After that Nicole becomes unsteady, getting woozy and eventually falling unconscious. Jordan lifts her sleeping body as carefully as he can and carries her down the hallway next to them.

"Now that's what I like to see!" Chief Kato rises from his seat and applauds with vigor. "True drive and determination. And sportsmanship regardless of the conclusion!"

His fellow judges did not appear to show his same enthusiasm, Ebony and Ivory both remaining seated and holding true do their hard stoic exteriors. "Yes, I would agree, it was a decent enough match. Do not worry about the arena anyone, we will have our best repair mages return it to usable condition for the next fight," Headmaster Ebony says calmly says, changing the topic. "We will now have a small intermission in that time. I believe some of our judges may want to deliberate on what we think of the fight as well."

The chief, slightly embarrassed, straightens his robe and sits back down in his chair, next to the other two judges. "Ahem, yes. Of course."

"Young Jamil, Young Zion, if you would take it from here," Ebony signals, bringing the magical monitors back up all along the stadium.

As the screens reappear they show an interesting scene; Zion had been covering his microphone with one of his hands, and pulling Jamil in with the other to whisper into his ear. Caught off guard from being shown Zion stumbles, uncovering his microphone and pushes pushing Jamil away. "Sorry about that folks, but was that a fight or what guys!?"

The crowd hollars and screams of approval, having loved every moment of what they just watched.

"Yeah man, it was all like 'Whoosh', 'Slash', 'Bang!'" Jamil says dramatically, rising from his seat pretending to throw punches and kicks.

"And then it was like 'Pow', 'Boom', 'Slam', 'Wham!'

The crowd laughs and chuckles at the two announcers joking commentary. After several more quips the two speaker tell everyone watching that the begin the next fight in just a few minutes, signalling the televised version to go to commercial. But for all of the patrons watching in person this was the time to talk on the exams so far, and talk they did.

The coliseum buzzed with the words of everybody in the building. Everything from the gossip and expectations to come from the casual viewers, to the critical words of the judges echoed through the energized stadium. But amongst the chatter and bustling of the tournament in the overhanging teacher booth Lesser, Jordan's adoptive elven father, stands silently observing all that is happening, surrounded by the numerous professionals commentating on the up and coming children's skills and applicability.

He sips from his bottle of beer, finishing off the last few drops and throws it behind him carelessly, yet it lands in a trash can which he had already filled with four others. "Oh, finished already? Would you like another, sir?" An attractive young vendor lady comes up to him with a plate of alcoholic beverages.

Lesser turns to face the lady, grabs the entire plate from her hands, and continues to walk past her out of the teacher's booth without saying a word.

Downstairs after dropping Nicole off, Jordan exits the infirmary, closing the door behind him and continues through the hall towards the waiting room with his head toward the ground. Turning the corner Jordan sees two empty crushed cans of cheap beer, and the legs of a giant man leaning against the wall.

"Hey, Lesser," Jordan says reluctantly, stopping as he walks.

"You alright, kid?" Lesser says, picking himself off the wall and walking towards Jordan. "Here, calm your nerves," He reaches back and grabs a bottle from a hostler he had made specially for his drinking tendencies, and hands it to Jordan.

Jordan takes the bottle, pops off the caps, and takes a swig from it. "Thanks."

"You're doing good out there, you got everyone's attention with that last match." Lesser wraps his arm around Jordan, and brings him to the wall he was leaning on before, then kneels down and sits on the ground.

"Was that a compliment? From you?" Jordan jokes, drinking from the bottle once more.

"Don't let it go to your head," Lesser lightly punches the kid in the head, hard enough to knock him around and make him spill booze on himself. "Gotta be careful though, that was far from perfect."

"What can I say? She was tough."

"You were hesitant, and because of that she mopped the floor with you for the first half."

"I don't like fighting girls," Jordan defends himself.

"She got the best of you, and drew out your magic. Now either somethin' is messing with you, or I'm not as good of a teacher as I thought I was."

The hall is silent for a moment until the clank of Jordan's bottle being placed on the ground reverberates through the dark empty path. He opens his mouth to speak up, but Lesser cuts him off.

"I've warned you about using your kind of magic, especially in public, but I've never made it a fact to keep you from using it. Either you use it or you don't, but she got under your skin. What happened out there?"

Jordan looks at Lesser, meeting his eyes. "Do you know what that was at the end? The think with the metal beam?"

"Can't say I do. Never shown any evidence of being compatible with earth elemental magic until now. Maybe it's just something one of your parents were capable of, and it just didn't surface in you until then?"

"That just doesn't make sense to me though. You said the same thing about my sound magic when I was little, and that it was super rare, and strong, and hard to master, so it would've only made sense for me to have inherited it from one of my parents who must've been someone strong. So why wouldn't I have gotten earth magic when I was little too?"

Lesser scratches his head and thinks for a second. "Not sure. Different magics work different ways. Could have to do with the skill difference in your parents, but we'll never know about that. I'd just try not to worry about it for now, stick to what you know."

Jordan stared off for a second, silently pondering to himself the possibilities of this new magic appearing out of nowhere. He wasn't too sure about if what Lesser was saying was correct, but he didn't have any other ideas. Lesser was definitely right about it working differently however. What little bit of using it he remembered seemed completely different to Jordan, than compared to the sound magic he used, which had seemed to come completely natural to him.

"I guess you're right," Jordan resumes drinking the beer Lesser had given him. It tasted disgusting to him, he hated beer, but the alcohol definitely calmed his nerves.

"Who knows, I'm not technically required to know all this shit yet. Now, I'm gonna get on you about this now that I got you boozed up and talking; What's messing with you?"

After some time, Jordan opens up to Lesser about his new reoccuring nightmares and the events in them happening in the real world. Jordan tells him everything he can as the next two fights go on. Explaining when they started happening and what exactly happened in them while the fight between Can and Eboni raged on for almost all of the allotted time, resulting in the the entire arena scorched and demolished, and ending with Can being declared the winner. Afterwards they called another intermission so the stage may be repaired once again, during which Jordan described the two men who had appeared in his dreams so far.

The next and final fight of the second round was between the two female fighters, Mona and Genesis, started almost immediately after the battle platform was repaired. At that point Jordan had just wrapped up describing the parallels between his dream and the tournament so far, and how the glass bottle of Luth's metallic blood confirmed they were crossing over, and this all wasn't just a strange coincidence.

"Lesser?" Jordan had just realised that Lesser had been silent for a while now, lost in thought, seeming to pay attention to neither the match, nor Jordan.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm still listening sorry."

"Got anything?" Jordan asked nervously.

"Hmm… Made enemies with any telepaths?" Lesser asks looking at Jordan, who simply shakes his head no. "Then nope, nothing. Never heard of anything like this."

"Damn… nothing about this makes any sense."

Lesser goes silent again for a short time. "You might want to go around asking some of the academy staff around here about it while you have the chance to speak to professionals."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea if I didn't have to go fight again soon."

"Still man," Lesser goes to grab yet another drink from his coat pocket. "You probably won't get a chance like this for a long time, if you're lucky at least."

Jordan raises his left eyebrow and tilts his head. "Um, what do you mean? I thought if I did well in this I'd be taken into the academy, where last time I checked, was literally employed by professionals."

Lesser sighs, then takes a drink from his can. "I've always tried my hardest to be straight with you, kid, so I guess I kinda gotta do it here too."

"Well then spit it out," Jordan says, slightly aggravated at what he thinks lesser is going to say.

"I'm not so sure I was right to enter you in a tournament. 'Specially not one of this caliber. These kids are crazy nowadays, all of em. You're strong, for sure, don't get that twisted. There are just a lot of others who are strong too… Some are just stronger."

Lesser lifts the can to his lips again to take another drink, but it gets knocked out of his hand and sent flying as Jordan snaps and points at it, shooting a small shock wave in that direction. "You don't think I can make it into this dumb school," Jordan says in a sad tone, feeling slightly betrayed by the same man who raised and trained him. "I'm in the damn semi-finals for the B group! That's pretty impressive for a competition with some of the people with the most potential from across the entire fucking country."

"It isn't all about strength, Jordan! What have you shown for the judges to want to admit you? Because unless you forgot, placement only means so much! You haven't shown any care. No motivation. You don't even have any style or finesse for them to attach to. Every other person have at least one of those things, more than likely all of them. They all have a drive and a reason to try and prove their spot. You haven't shown that! You haven't shown any drive for anything for sixteen years, besides being lazy and getting what you want with your fists!" Lesser explodes at Jordan, then closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to try and gather himself again.

"Mona takes the victory, and advances to the next round!" The words signaling the end of the fight blare, interrupting the argument between the two. "And in just a little bit we will be back with the fight between?..." The announcer says, starting up the screen which randomly mixes the names to determine the fights. The names land in the second to last matches, and their order.

 **Jordan v.s. Can**

 **Mona v.s. Solomon**

"Jordan and Can! Both of you go ahead and get ready while you can. We'll be right back after this break, and then it's battle time once again!"

"Look," Lesser opens his eyes and look deep into his son's, filled with detest and anger. "I'm not saying you can't do this. I just want you to use your head for once. I wanted to bring you here to do this and hopefully get you a real education, a damn good one too, so that you can try and learn shit like this. Just keep what I said in mind, and be careful in this and the next fight, if you make it that far, and maybe you'll actually be able to pull this off. I've been watching, and this next guy is no joke, and if you end up fighting that Solomon guy it'll be that much tougher. He can-"

"Yeah yeah, I appreciate that and all 'Dad', except, oh wait, I don't. Screw off, asshole. Gonna force me to enter some competition, then once I'm actually good tell me I'm going to lose, whatever, I'm done hearing this. I couldn't care less before, and I'm still not a huge fan, but oh trust me, I'll show you some fucking finesse and drive. I don't need your backwards motivation or shitty teaching to win this and take them down. I feel bad for whatever students get stuck with you."

With that Jordan throws up both of his middle fingers, bursting out a weak sonic boom, making Lesser stumble back. He turns around and storms off to the waiting room, completely disregarding his original conflict with his nightmares, throwing it away to focus entirely on proving Lesser wrong and that he was better than what he, the judes, or anyone else thought of him.

As the child he spent his adulthood guiding walks off in disgust for him, Lesser flinches from the pain in his heart caused by the stabbing feeling of guilt clouding over him. He never got emotional, specifically with the negative emotions. Lesser rarely ever had a reason to be sad anymore, Jordan kept him motivated and positive. "I'm sorry, Jordan… It was bound to start sooner or later, but you're still so young."

After those words of sorrow quietly flow from his melancholic lips Lesser is forced to turn around and walk in the opposite of where Jordan had left to, heading back to the teacher's booth.

"Oh, it's you Mister! Another drink?" The smiley upbeat server lady returns, walking up to Lesser, bearing another plate of booze to which he rejects, walking past in silence.

Downstairs, on the other side of the building Jordan reaches the waiting room where the same man who worked at the stadium waited for him. "Hey there, glad to see you're on time for this one."

Jordan responds, focused on the doorway in front of him. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world. When are we on?"

The employee sticks his arm out, just like last round, to announce that they could begin. "They're just about to come back from break, so just a minute."

"Good."

At that moment the magical screens projecting the tournament apparate again with the two commentators on them.

"Hellooo, everyone!"

"Welcome back the- Eh? What's this?!"

As soon as the screens turned on Jordan walked out of the doorway, ignoring the announcers, and making his way towards the platform with determination.

"It appears that Jordan wants to hurry up and get this over with."

"No need to introduce me, I can do it myself," A posh, attractive young man walks out of the opposite doorway in a confident stride. He had pale skin, and light brown hair that was quaffed up. "I am Can, and I shall be your downfall. As the perfect being, I was meant to conquer everyone who crosses my path, and I am sorry that you were unfortunate enough to have to face me. Though somebody had to," Can continues his pretentious claims as he walks up to the battle stage where Jordan stood.

Eventually, after taking his time, Can arrives at the platform, still boasting, though Jordan paid him no mind. "I have seen your matches, and while you may have slithered your way to this point, you won't have such luck against me. As prince of my peoples, my mother chose me to lead us, and the rest of the world, to a new age of serenity and balance. I shall not let her down, it is impossible for me to do so in fact, it was predetermined. And now, I must enact my fate, because yours was sealed the moment my feet touched this cement."

Can gestures outward towards the ground. His lips were curled up into a constant smirk, and all Jordan wanted to do at the moment was punch that confident look off his stuck up face and move on. Can didn't even bother to open his eyes or look at Jordan while speaking to him.

"Relish in your prison, and contemplate your destiny. Try as you might to run away, you are stuck, just as it has been ordained by the gods. I, much like fate, am inescapable."

Looking down Jordan sees that his feet have been encased in the stone from the platform, covering his legs all the way up to his knees. Can laughs at this, deriving pleasure from seeing his opponent stuck, and begins to slowly walk towards him, monologuing again as he approached.

"Imbue is the perfect magic, fitting for the perfect mage on a mission of salvation. You see, imbue allows me to give any property I wish to whatever I come in contact with. In this instance I chose to give this stone the enchantment 'movement,' allowing me to have it move up and trap your legs. And I have one enchantment in mind that I want to put on you, 'snuff.'"

As Can inches his way towards the immobile Jordan he raises his right hand, bringing it up to his chest. A small incantation appears on his palm, glowing a bright reddish orange, flickering like a flame.

"How could you even stand a chance against someone who's magic let them control the world around them? You couldn't even hit them, not without getting cursed at least," Only a step away, Can closes his eyes, his smug grin growing even more, and pushes his palm forward. "You've now had the privilege of being extinguished, by the man on a plain of his own."

"CRACK!"

Can's eyes shoot open, and his 'perfect' cocky face melts into one of fear. One of Jordan's legs had broken free of the stone surrounding it, which Can thought was impossible.

Jordan moves his other leg, which was still encased, barely applying any force, and steps out of the trap. As Can watched his plan crumble the red magic symbol on his hand fades into a feint black outline. He pulls his hand back and stumbles away.

"T-This wasn't meant to happen this way."

Jordan walks forward, now the one in control as Can steps back.

"Annoying brat! You dare defy perfection!"

Can yells furiously at Jordan, but he remains silent, continuing to approach.

"This is not the will of the god's!"

Still no response.

"Damn it! You won't even speak?!"

Can's breakdown continues as Jordan pressures him to the edge of the ring.

"No one has broken before my enchantments before, but that will not cause me to falter. I have a fate to uphold, a fate for my mother and my kind, a fate destined by the gods, a fate of equilibrium!" Can powers up, charging up the fiery symbol on his palm and makes it glow brightly again. "You will be smothered yet, defiler!" He slams his palm to his chest, enchanting his own body. His torso starts to glow a bright burning orange, growing to cover his entire body, then finally bursting into flames which surrounded him.

"You will burn with your sins!" Can yells, blasts off the ground, rocketing toward Jordan, and leaving a flaming trail behind him.

Jordan stands still, remaining in the path of Can's powered up blazing punch. Just before Can reaches him, Jordan braces his body, firmly planting his feet on the ground. Can reels his arm back, increasing the size and heat of it's flame until it was bright blue and the size of his entire body, then jabs straight toward Jordan's chest, striking it with all of the force he could.

As his hit landed, the fire from Can's fist launched forward engulfing all of Jordan, spreading over the platform, stopping just short of the audience.

"N-n-n-n-n-NOOO!" Can Shrieks, then recalls his flames. Unveiling Jordan, unfazed and unmoved. Can had landed the hit on Jordan, but ended up doing nothing but pissing him off more.

"Everyone!" Jordan yells out, increasing the volume of his voice utilizing his magic. "Cover your ears!"

Once his orders were announced to the crowd, Jordan pivots his body and shifts his weight to the right, and locks into place. Then much like Can, Jordan charges up his fist, which glowed a bright green from all of the magic coursing through it, then throws it straight up, uppercutting Can square in the jaw.

The hit was so strong the sonic boom it produced radiated out from Jordan, sending objects and jarred audience members flying. Can was sent soaring with the punch as well, tumbling high into the sky, and reverting to his normal state, having had another one of his enchantments broken from the overwhelming blast. Following close behind using another tremendous boom, Jordan cuts through the air, catching up to, and accelerating past him, in a fraction of a second. Once he has enough distance between himself and Can, Jordan releases another burst of sound, causing him to somersault through the air at high speed. Jordan fires off one final blast of sound from his foot, much stronger and louder than any before, bringing his heel down on Can's stomach with such enormous force it blasted him through the raised concrete platform in the blink of an eye, burying him in a mound of rubble. Using the force of the previous blast's power, Jordan launches back down, blasting through the stone atop of Can to the point of pulverization, and finishes him with one last hit.

With a belt of pain and a spew of blood, Can loses the fight, carrying all of the energy of Jordan's strongest hit through his body and into the ground. Coursing through the ground, the energy of Jordan's finishing blow was felt making its way through and shaking the ground of the arena and beyond. The coliseum as a whole, quaked violently, knocking those still in their seats out, while keeping the ones who were blasted away stuck on the ground. And though Jordan had won the fight, the round was not over for him quite yet.

Standing up tall and expecting applause, Jordan was met with another, more worrying sound filling the area. Around the stadium the metal beams holding the building up creaked and groaned as they strained to withstand the force, only for them all to snap at the base. The large stone building started to tumble down around Jordan. Fearing the worst for the people in the stands, Jordan took action as swiftly as he could. If the structure was allowed to fall too far the entire thing would collapse, burying and killing hundred of people.

All on a whim, Jordan kicks Can's near unconscious body away to protect him from his next move, landing him in the stands of the arena. Now by himself in the center of the large round stadium, Jordan jabs both of his hands directly into the ground, putting them as deep as possible in the earth. He charges all of his magic, channeling it into and out his hands, emitting a powerful low frequency wave of sound out of the ground with enough force to levitate the broken building above the ground. Yelling in pain as he forces as much magic out of his body as possible, Jordan continuously produces the sound for half a minute, to the point where his body almost can't take it anymore.

"Good work, now stop before you kill yourself."

Suddenly a much more powerful force of magic appears behind Jordan, then following the orders of the much more powerful man, he cuts off his magic and ends the sound wave. Jordan falls to the ground, his vision is hazy, but through the blurriness he can see the building slowly floating back to where it was before, and the bright light of fire welding the beams back into place.

Jordan feels himself being grabbed by the back of the neck, then being lifted off the ground, having his arms pulled from the dirt with him. "You alright, boy? That was a mighty impressive display of power," Another strong mature voice asks, coming from the man who lifted Jordan, slinging his arm over their shoulder like a human crutch. The voice rang strangely familiar to Jordan, as well did the one from before.

Jordan's vision begins to fade from bad to worse, going from simply blurry to dark and unable to see. His head dips, almost unconscious.

A third voice speaks up. "Hey, stay with us now," A rough calloused hand lightly slaps Jordan's face, bringing him back slightly. "Are you going to be alright enough to compete in the final round?"

Jordan tries to strain his head to nod, but to no avail. He had forced too much out of himself trying to make up for his hardheadedness. As much as Jordan wanted to go on to the finals to prove Lesser wrong, he couldn't even nod his head to say yes.

"Are you delusional? He is in no condition to walk, let alone fight." The first voice speaks again. His words were true, and stung as they rang in Jordan's ears. He couldn't even use his magic to help him respond.

The three masculine voices begin to bicker about what should be done, and the state of Jordan, until they all in unison cut, everyone going completely silent.

"He will be more than ready for the finals, I shall make sure of it," The upbeat pretty ring of a female's voice chimes, bringing the men to silence, and soothing Jordan's aching body. She places her hand on Jordan's forehead, and a cool wash of rejuvenation flows through his body, lessening the constant burning pain in him to a point where it was bearable and he could move for himself.

Jordan blinks several times, bringing his vision back into focus revealing the people who had helped him. "Well good, I'm hoping I get to see him fight Solomon," A jolly deep laugh bellows from Jordan's left, revealing the powerful Chief Kato, one of the three judges. Looking further reveals Cardinal Ivory standing astute as usual, and letting Jordan off his shoulder was Headmaster Ebony. Directly in front of Jordan, taking her palm from his forehead was a beautiful tanned woman, brandishing a smile and exuding positivity- The princess.

"I'll take care of the runner-up as well of course. Cardinal, if you would?" The princess speaks, leaving everyone silent, and Jordan in awe. He now understood why the three male judges went quiet when we approached.

At Princess Hikari's request, Cardinal Ivory uses his magic, lifting Can from the ground in the stands and bringing him back to where he lay before on the ground. Can lets out a quiet groan of despair and pain, wincing from just breathing. Can turns is eyes looking at Jordan in disgust, unable to move his body. "From henceforth, you've been- Ack!- … Excommunicated from my perfect future."

The princess kneels down next to Can, Jordan assumes to heal him like she did to himself. Instead she looks at him for a second, only to chop him in the neck, causing him to yelp out in pain and fall unconscious. "Hehe, that's enough out of him for now," She nervously jokes, looking back at the other, more mature judges.

After several stern looks of disapproval Hikari walks back over to Jordan and places her hand on his head once more. "You should get some rest as well."

"Huh, hold on a-"

…

"-Second!" Jordan looks around, not remembering anything that had happened since his encounter with the four judges. He was on a bed in the middle of the infirmary, which was basically just a large white room filled with beds and medical equipment separated by curtains. "Weird…" Jordan feels his head where the princess had used her magic to heal him.

Looking to his left he finds a small note of paper on a table next to the recovery bed. The writing on the note was flowing and neat, more than likely that of a female.

"I hope you are feeling better after how you exerted yourself before. I will release the healing spell I placed on you from my seat after the other semi-final match is over. You should make your way down to your position as soon as possible to get ready for your final fight. Good luck, I look forward to watching you in the finale, and I hope to see you in our academy in the time to come.

-Yours truly,

Princess Hikari of Osibir.

P.S. You should grab a quick snack before the fight. For a strong guy, you're a little skinny. :)"

Jordan rises from his seat, feeling much more refreshed, and walks out the door of the infirmary, throwing away the note left by the princess. "Thanks, your highness," Jordan sarcastically jokes to himself.

As he made his way through the halls of the stadium which he nearly destroyed, Jordan is met one after another by magical projections listing the outcomes. One thing he reads sticks out to him each time he walks by it; "Winner is Solomon." This is what Jordan's thick headed, one track mind was set on since the second round, finding out the answers of his nightmares. And now he could, and would, beat them out of this Solomon guy.

"Ya know the drill kid," Spoke the employee for the tournament whom Jordan had gotten accustomed to. He signals to the announcers, and Jordan throws away the peel of an orange which he had reluctantly eaten on his way down, at the recommendation of the princess.

Normally at that moment the magic monitors would appear with the two announcers, but for once they weren't there. "Where are the announcers?" Jordan asks the man.

"You were first this time, we're waitin' on the princlin' to get ready."

"Prince?!" Jordan asked aloud. Nobody had mentioned this guy to be royalty of any kind, and now that the topic was in his mind he realized the same went for Can. He had never heard of any important royal families besides the ruling monarchy of Osibir, to which Hikari was the heir.

"Yup, son of the chief up there," The man motions his head to Chief Kato in the judges seat of the crowd.

"So how does that work out anyways? If there is one ruling family how are there other royal families, like his and Can's?"

"Kinda like a tier system, the Family of Light look over the country of Osibir as a whole, making laws, settling disputes, maintaining the military. Big time shit, real important kingly and queenly things, y'know? The Family of Fire rules over the state of Ather'Oppa, one of several states. They don't do too much besides lookin' over the individual states for the king or queen. The Family of Gold is actually the rulin' family of their own independent state all it's own inside the country with their own laws and such. They don't actually have any connection to the country, so they can do pretty much all they want as long as the royal family allows it. There are a few independent states that were allowed to rule after the war, most of them became incorporated states or were dissolved and added to existing ones though. They can still participate in national events like this and have a little political influence, since they do share the continent and all, but they're mostly their own thing."

Jordan thinks for a moment, taking all he said in.

"This is all stuff you shoulda learned in school. Take it ya never paid much attention in history?"

"Eh, guess I was just never one for politics," Jordan responds.

"Ha, feel ya there kid," The man laughs. He looks away, listening in on his ear piece. "Okay, they're ready on the other side. Get ready to go out."

Now the monitors appeared with the two young black announcers, but Jordan couldn't care less for their banter at the time being. This was the moment the competition was leading up to, but what exactly it was leading to was very different for those watching and Jordan. He couldn't wait to get his hands on Solomon and finish on all this confusion and hassle.

Jordan felt a tap on his shoulder, the man pointed to the door and let him know they just introduced him and he needed to go on. So Jordan made his way out, and up the stairs, tuning everything out. The wild screaming of the audience was mute to him, the colors of banners, clothes and signs were bland and nonexistent to him. He had tunnel vision for one thing, and one thing only: The opposing doorway.

"And here he is, Prince Solomon!"

The words from the loudspeaker pierce Jordan's ears, fueling his adrenaline and anticipation. After being signaled his shadowed appearance approaches to the door and walks through, being revealed by the light.

Solomon walked out in a up beat almost rhythmic pace, taking his time to reach the battle stage. He was a light skinned ethnic man, with a short cut hair style, and light brown eyes with a reddish tint. He smiled widely as he walked, waving to every corner of the crowd, which they loved.

He eventually took his steps on the platform after showing off and egging on the audience, waving to Jordan as he did, then making a peace sign, smiling even larger somehow. Jordan was slightly confused at this, he couldn't tell if he was being honest or just playing dumb with his knowledge of Jordan's troubles. Regardless, Jordan hoping they would wrap up the intro so he could hit that goofy expression off him.

"Alright, the combatants are set, this is the moment we have all been waiting for…" The announcers begin.

Solomon cracks his knuckles, and rolls his neck to do the same there. He charges his magic, red aura fluttering around and off of him, bright red fire surrounding the base of his feet and his fists.

On his side to prepare, Jordan rips off his shirt and jacket, and charges his magic as well, contrasting Solomon with his glowing green energy discharging off of him with immense speed and force.

"Now it's time…"

Solomon and Jordan both ready their stances, preparing to charge one another, their magic even more powerful.

"For a battle!"

Without hesitation Jordan booms forwards, readying a devastating sound boosted punch to hit Solomon.

Solomon takes his move.

He takes one step back, walking out of bounds, spreading his arms wide and declares "I forfeit!"


	3. Some Assembly Required

"I forfeit!" Solomon says, just before stepping out of bounds, exiting the ring on the battle platform, his arms wide open.

Rocketing forward with a sonic boom, his fist out, directed towards Solomon's face, Jordan yells, caught off guard. "What!?"

Solomon raises his hand, catching Jordan's fist, and causing him to come to a complete stop in front of him. "Bitch, did I stutter?"

"Excuse me..." Jordan asks leering at Solomon with a piercing gaze, meanwhile Solomon continues smiling and laughing jovially.

Around the stadium several confetti cannons go off to celebrate Jordan's first place win in the tournament. The arena fills with an awkward flow of limp clapping and confused yelling.

After sharing a moment of silenced confusion with the audience, the announcer, Zion, spoke over the intercoms. "Uh, I guess that's it. Solomon admits to defeat and hands the win to Jordan,"

"AYY! See you in class, man," Solomon yells, waving stupidly, then skipping away back into the doorway.

"What… just happened?" Jordan asks himself as he looks around the stadium, dazed and confused.

"Everybody!" Zion yells, this time without the speaker, and stands up in the booth, along with Jamil. "This isn't over yet! We got a little surprise for our victor… A champion match!" The crowd loses it at the reveal of the secret final round. "Get ready, because the real fight starts now."

Jordan turns to face the commentator's booth, looking at the two upperclassmen as they prepared themselves for the surprise match. Jamil reached deep into his pockets, pulling out two spherical earrings, and puts one on each ear. Meanwhile Zion stands with his arms crossed, charging a purple aura that made his magic visible.

Behind himself, Jordan can hear a disturbance in the judge's corner once the two announcers begin the real final match. Distracted by the commotion, Jordan begins to turn his head to see what is happening.

"Your focus should be on us!" Zion yells, calling Jordan's attention back to himself, just in time for Jordan to watch as both Jamil and him charge, leaping out of the commentary box at a speed so fast Jordan, who could potentially move at Mach speeds, couldn't keep up with it.

Almost instantly, Jamil appears below Jordan, overflowing with a deep blue energy which appeared to glow from his eyes and earrings as well. "Face towards the sky…" Jamil twirls on the ground at a high speed, knocking Jordan off his feet, and then kicks him in the back as he falls, sending him flying upwards. "... Earth is where we'll be!"

In a desperate attempt to stop his body from clumsily flying through the air, Jordan lets loose a sonic boom from his feet, ready to strike back at Jamil.

"Face towards Earth…" Jordan looks behind himself, gasping at what he saw. Even higher into the sky, he can see Zion crashing from the heavens and towards him at lightning speed as he is surrounded by purple electricity. Going to block, Jordan raises his right arm just as Zion's super charged attack collides with him. "... The sky is where we'll be!" In an instant Jordan is pummeled into the ground, crashing through the battle platform, as Zion continues his assault, jolting him and pushing him downwards.

Before anyone could make sense of what had just happened, a spine-chilling voice echoed throughout the stadium, silencing everyone and their thoughts with a single order.

"STOP THIS FOOLISHNESS THIS INSTANCE!"

The dust clears around Jordan, revealing him knocked unconscious from the combination attack by the two senior students, who both had now sprang up to stand as straight and proper as they could. Marching towards the two men ballistically was Headmaster Ebony, dragging both Ivory and Princess Hikari behind him as they latched onto him in an attempt to stop him, with the final judge, Chief Kato nowhere in sight.

"Sorry Headmaster, sir!" The two boys shout in unison, bowing their heads.

"You damn well better be! What is the meaning of this sudden round you blockheads decided to come up with?"

They both remain nervously silent.

"WELL!?" Yells Ebony, releasing a burst of magic from his body as his deep menacing voice cascades through the air, causing both of the surprise opponents to flinch, as well as forcing the other judges to let go of him and fall to the ground.

Jamil speaks up to defend himself. "You see, sir-" He is stopped short by Zion, who put his arm in front of him, signaling to be quiet.

"We're really sorry, Headmaster. Nothing like this will happen again."

Ebony continues to reprimand the two, shouting furiously in the otherwise silent and tense arena. "Better not! I would kindly jump at the opportunity to expel both of you after this display of disrespect. I do not have a care in the world that you two are some of the most promising students in the academy, I will put you on the streets with no sympathy if either of you act up like this again; You are no better than anyone else. Our policy is to inspire and protect, not wail on people to the fun of it, for the sake of the gods! Not to mention how much this boy has already dealt with during the competition!"

"We understand. We'll head to our dorms now," Zion says turning around as he begins to walk away.

"Wise decision," The Headmaster shoots the two a dour look.

Jamil turns and grabs Zion's hand, getting his attention and speaking quietly to him. "But what about that thing you wanted to test out?"

"I already checked. Look," Zion responds, nodding to Jordan, who was left unconscious yet again, and walks off.

"But he's out col-... Oooh," He ponders for a moment, stroking his chin and nodding before realizing his friend had left him behind, and runs off to catch up with him.

"Damn it…" Ebony looked over at Jordan, and then to Hikari. "Princess, can you restore him?" Ebony asks, focusing once again on the beaten Jordan, lodged in a crater in the center of the stadium.

Hikari responds, being helped up off the ground by Ivory. "It's been too soon since the last session, it wouldn't do anything."

"Well could someone at least take him to the infirmary for now?" Ivory asks, wiping the dirt off of his pristine white robes.

The three judges look over to Jordan, contemplating their options when it came to their unconscious champion who was beaten in a fight that wasn't even supposed to happen. The school would be in deep trouble if he, or anyone else, was seriously injured on their grounds and they didn't do anything to prevent or compensate for the incident to the victim.

The three judges approach the comatose boy hesitantly, worrying for his health. Zion had proved time and time again to be one of the hardest hitting students enrolled in the academy, not to mention that the electricity from the magic very well could've had serious effects on Jordan's health as well, causing for more anxiety. As the judges reach the rim of the crater Jordan lay in their stare, his body didn't appear to have any significant external injuries, nor were there any signs of any internal bleeding or likewise injuries.

"Where are those medics we ordered for?!" Hikari yells out, looking away.

As Hikari returns her gaze to Jordan, she stumbles back in shock, almost falling until she is caught by Ebony, equally surprised by what he was seeing. Right before them Jordan was lifting himself off the ground, stumbling and hobbling as his aching body began to stand up. His eyes open suddenly, faintly glowing a light amber. Jolting his head in different directions Jordan takes in everything around himself.

Jordan speaks out silently to himself "H-hello?" His head jerks back, as if he is surprised by his own voice, and covers his mouth with both of his hands. He begins to laugh, starting as only silent giggles barely seeping between his fingers until it grows into full blown hysterics.

In the middle of his laughing fit Jordan seizes up, becoming silent and still, stuck in his frenzied pose. "Ack-" Jordan falls unconscious again, dropping down and landing face down in the dirt of the crater.

 **…**

Standing face to face again Luth and Jordan find themselves back in the empty black plain where they first met.

Luth let out a little giggle and let his voice be heard. "You know, we are really going to have to compromise if we are going to be stuck with each other."

Jordan scoffed. "Shut up, we aren't compromising on anything," Jordan crosses his arms, looking down Luth, just feet away from him.

"Well certainly not with that attitude we aren't," Luth extends his arm, reaching to put it on Jordan's shoulder, his glowing glass wings which float off his back following his movements. "Listen, Jordan dearest-"

Jordan swats way his hand. "No, you listen. What do you want with me?"

"Well, truth be told, it isn't specifically you. It'd be like this if your shoes were filled by anyone else. You just happened to be the lucky one." Luth said with a sly smile.

"Oh really, I'm the lucky one?" Jordan rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't feel very lucky having you pop up all of a sudden."

"I would be careful about what you say in here, darling. I wouldn't dare do anything too heinous to you; however," Luth lowered his voice before continuing, making sure it was nothing more than a hushed whisper. "One of the others might not take too kindly to your coarse way of speaking. This may be your mind, but we know how to work it much better than you. As long as no one interrupts us, I could keep you here with me as long as I wished."

Both of Jordan's eyebrows bolt up in surprise, shocked by this news. "You better let me out of here, asshole!"

"Of course, I will. As I said before, I would never do anything awful to you… relatively," Jordan lurches forwards again in detest to Luth's statement, butting in to retaliate. "Shh… listen."

Luth stops Jordan, putting a finger on his lips to hush him, and cups his ear with his other hand. After a second of confusion and silence Jordan feels a deep rumbling flow through him, lightly shaking the ground from under him.

" _Sir, I can't let you see him. I'm sorry."_

" _What do you mean I 'can't see him'!? That's my kid in there!"_

Two voices spoke out with overwhelming volume, each word shaking the ground. The origin of the conversation was untraceable, sounding as if it was coming from all angles. Of the two voices, the first one was foreign to Jordan, the only things he could make out from it was that it came from a young man. However, the second voice was recognizable in a moment's notice as a slightly distorted Lesser yelling.

" _It's school policy, there is nothing I can do about it. With the exception of staff, nobody is allowed to visit unconscious patients in the infirmary."_

" _Oh yeah? Well I'm a teacher here now, so there. Now let me through."_

" _Actually, you don't receive employment benefits until the first day of school. So still no. The kid is doing fine, and he is old enough to make it home by himself once we release him. Unfortunately, you'll just have to go home and wait for him there, Mr. Philistine. Jordan will probably be back by sundown."_

The sound of the conversation ends there, cut off by Luth, who begins one of his signature bursts of laughter. Disregarding the deranged actions of the man across from him, Jordan focuses on the conversation he was allowed to listen to, thrown off by one thing in particular; why was Lesser called Philistine by that man. From what little bit he was taught by his father figure about his own culture, Jordan understood that the Jade Elves didn't have surnames.

"HahaHAHAHA- Oh?" Luth ends his laughter and looks around hastily. Streaks of white were slowly beginning to fill the empty void with their unwarranted presence. "Drats! I can never get any quality alone time with you, can I? Oh well, there's always next time. Now shoo, I'm sure our next meeting will be under much better terms," His mouth creeps into a wide smile, flashing his sharp white teeth, and waves with his right glassy wing.

"Wait a minute!" Jordan cries out, still having dozens of questions for Luth. The white lights began to grow after clinging onto Jordan's legs. They were making it nearly impossible to see just about anything, and Luth's menacing figure had become nothing but a silhouette. Jordan threw his hands out to reach for Luth, thinking that would somehow stop the light. "I SAID-"

"-WAIT!" Jordan shot into a sitting position on a lonely bed, his arm outstretched. The dark plain had officially faded away and Jordan noticed that he was in a completely different area.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, Jordan quickly realizes he was back inside the infirmary of the arena.

Hesitantly, he straightens up, now realizing that his body was sore and bruised. The nursing staff had wrapped his bare torso and waist heavily in bandages, and applied a sling to his right arm.

"Hey there, glad to see you're alright. Bad dream?" A voice speaks up from the edge of the room. A familiar voice.

Jordan looks over to where the voice came from. At the main desk of the infirmary was a young, extremely pale man with short brown hair and a scraggly beard who was looking up from a clipboard with a stack of papers. Frustration builds in Jordan's chest as he looks back at his hand, opening and closing it repeatedly.

"Argh… DAMN WEIRD ASS GLASSY FUCKING BASTARD!" Jordan clenches his fist and yells.

"Okay then, never mind. Not so alright," The man at the counter says putting down the clipboard and rising from his seat.

"What?" Jordan blinks a few times before realizing he had been speaking out loud. "Yeah, whatever. I'm fine. Where's Lesser?"

The man walks over to Jordan, still sitting in the recovery bed. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?" He shines a small flashlight in Jordan's eyes

"The seven foot tall green elf with a blue tattoo around his left eye," Jordan says blankly at the man.

"Oh. You might wanna lead off with that next time. He came around a couple hours ago, had to send him home though. By the looks of it you should be fine to head out of here too."

"A couple hours?!" Jordan exclaims. He lets out an audible sigh of frustration and slowly steps out of the bed. "Damn, I gotta get home then."

Jordan rushes to the door as much as he could while limping, but is stopped and pulled back before his hand could reach the door handle. "Hold it a sec, champ." Turning back round, Jordan looks as his clothes levitate towards him. "You want these back don't ya?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks." Jordan puts out his healthy arm and grabs the stack of clothing.

"And don't worry about the school pants, just throw them out. They're all tattered anyways. You'll be given plenty of active and formal uniforms, the academy is used to the clothing being destroyed by now," The man holds his hand out to the side, telepathically opening the clasp on the clipboard and hovers a sheet over to his grasp, then places the paper atop of the pile Jordan was holding.

Jordan looks down and reads the paper. The words were large and very eloquently handwritten, flowing on the paper, which itself was high quality and boarded by a gold foil.

 _ **We the distinguished committee of mages and warriors appointed directly by the Royal Council, are honored to cordially welcome the young and auspicious**_

 _ **Jordan**_

 _ **Into the honorable academia for the study of the magical and tactical arts of the holy country of Osibir, over which we reside.**_

 _ **As voted upon by the judges:**_

 _ **Headmaster, Ebony Pythias, founder and leader for the Academy of Osibir**_

 _ **Cardinal Dean, Ivory Pythias, of the magical church**_

 _ **Fourth reigning chief of the Village of Ather'Oppa, Kato Nazir**_

 _ **Heir to the throne of light, Princess Hikari, of the Empire of Osibir**_

"Congrats, my guy. Even for a champion it's pretty uncommon to have a unanimous vote from all the judges. Initiation and introductions start in a week, but school doesn't actually begin until another week after that."

Confusion flows through the mind of the young champion, wondering as to how the judges could have all agreed on his enrollment given the fact that he did not even prove himself in the final round.

"And don't worry about your schedule, you'll be in the first year D class, just head to the school and the staff will direct you to your classroom."

"Oh, uh, thanks. I'll remember that," Jordan awkwardly responds.

"Good, now you need to get on home. It's getting late and your old man seemed real worried about you. I'm part of the staff at the academy, so I'll be seeing you around kid," Saying his farewells, the young staff member shows Jordan out of the infirmary, detailing to him how to exit the building, before leaving to return to his station.

Sounds of limping footsteps reverberate down the hollow hallways. The coliseum had been emptied out for some time now, having only the clean-up and recovery staff on hand after all of the tournament competitors and spectators departed after the festivities had ended.

Making his way to the front of the building, Jordan opens the main doors and takes a step out. He took in a deep gulp of air as he opened the door. It felt like ages since he had been exposed to fresh air. The setting sun has turned the urban skyline into a beautiful scene, blinding the eyes of Jordan with hues of red and shades of orange, flooding the evening sky and dying the lingering clouds.

In front of the coliseum are a set of stairs, descending to street level. At the top of these stairs sit a lone man who turns to face Jordan as he approaches. His light brown hair flowed out of his face as a light breeze went by. Their eyes were puffed and pink, streaks of tears resting on their dusk tinted face. The man was Can.

"Oh, it's you," Can turns back away, rubbing his eyes, and hanging his head low again.

In Jordan's chest a feeling of guilt, as if a heavy ball sank inside of him, takes over him at the sight of the defeated man. He walks over and speaks to him, in order to break the tension. "It's that hard on you, huh?"

Can sighs, and responds, struggling to keep himself from choking up. "You could say that…"

The two are silent for a second as Can sniffles and clears his sore throat. Jordan puts his hand on the depressed man's shoulder to comfort him, and sits down on the stairs beside him.

"Take it you didn't get in?" Jordan asks.

"Doesn't matter," Can raises his head, looking out towards the setting sun. "Whether or not they accept me, I won't be attending the academy," He wipes his eyes once more, and then speaks again in a silent tone. "After all, the perfect ruler cannot walk tall, having lost to a common man."

Can rises, Jordan's eyes follow him as he stands. "What about you? Did they give you your results?" Can asks, continuing to stare at the urban horizon.

"Uh, yeah… I got in," Hesitantly Jordan responds, purposely leaving out the fact that the judges unanimously accepted him into the school, seeing as it would do more harm than good at the moment.

The head of Can lowers slightly, and he takes a deep breath. "Figures… "He had already known that Jordan's admittance into the academy was set in stone after how tremendously he had won all of his fights.

"C'mon man, don't focus on that though," Jordan says, getting up as well.

"Truthfully… The power you possess is immense, you'll do great there. It's obvious you were destined for great things," Can praises Jordan, with a small smile, the first real sign of happiness Jordan had seen from him.

Jordan reciprocates the joy, smiling back at the surprisingly kind words of a man he had fought with just a few hours ago, and silently laughs. "Let's go, you talk too much," He says, turning around and slowly starting down the stairs.

"Let's go?"

"Yeah, to the train station. Hurry up, I'm paying for your ride."

"If you say so. That's very kind of you," Can follow Jordan down to the sidewalk and walks beside him. "You know though, your fighting technique does need a little work," Can jokes.

"Okay, now you're really talking too much."

The two walk and talk as they make their way downtown, through the capital city of Osibir sharing things and getting to know one another better. As the boys speak the wall of awkwardness slowly fades, along with any leftover hostilities their match in the tournament may have bred into them.

Can vents about how his mother always pressured him, wanting him to be perfect, for as long as he could remember. His entire purpose in his lineage was to improve upon the one that came before him, and everyone else both in and outside of the land he was set to rule one day, no matter how much he despised and detested that thought. Releasing all of that built up pressure within himself helped Can tremendously, though he could help from remaining distant and melancholy.

Jordan let loose as well, informing the foreign prince of how he was actually an orphan from the now dissolved kingdom of Aodirn, and never even knew his parents, instead being found and raised by a Jade Elf, whom had no family either. Telling new people of his origins was a joy for Jordan, he loved the look upon the faces of his audience as he narrated his very unique circumstances; He found pride in where he came from, no matter the fact that he wasn't really related to his paternal figure, and that they had struggles regardless of where they went because of what race he was.

Finally, Jordan recounts the story of how Lesser came to find him, just as he would ask to be told every night before bed as a child. It was sixteen years ago, Lesser had been homeless at the time, life was rough even then as his race allied themselves with Aodirn, who was on the brink of losing the mighty war at that point.

Desperate for both food and shelter, Lesser wandered the Shadow Forests of the Aodirn mountains, hoping to come across some sort of animal he could hunt and eat, maybe even a small cave he could hide inside of for the night.

Eventually, in the middle of the night, something stood out amongst the dark starry sky and the black evergreen trees which notably covered the harsh wilderness. A small yet bright light illuminated a far off spot in the forest. Approaching the light, Lesser realizes that in the middle of a clearing in the trees there was a burning flame in the middle of a fire pit. Surrounding the fire were several large tents, and a group of at least two dozen men.

However, something stood out to Lesser. Every one of the men wore the exact same armor, branded with the same insignia of a headless crow; the symbol of a local marauder group that would charge into towns, steal all the valuables they could, murder anyone who attempted to get in their way, and burned the town to the ground in a single day.

Lesser was weak, he hadn't eaten in days, and a good night's rest was a long-lost memory. Initially, Lesser simply turned around, batting a blind eye, and creeping off into the opposite direction to avoid conflict. Carefully tiptoeing away, avoiding large branches and leaves that would crunch and give away his location if he stepped on them, Lesser looks behind himself to ensure nobody had seen him.

Each of the marauders were still sitting around the fire, they all had something in their hands, inspecting it, then once they were finished they would get up, walk into the largest tent, and come out with a different object. It was obvious that they had just finished destroying a town earlier that day, and were taking inventory of all their stolen goods.

The leader walked out of the grand tent, adorned with much higher quality golden armor, and carrying something in his right hand. All off his men cheered as he spoke to them, congratulating them all on a well done raid and a good haul. The howling continued as the head spoke, and not wanting to stick around much longer Lesser began to walk away faster, using their own voices to drown out his steps.

"That's enough!" The chief commanded bringing all of his men to silence just as Lesser was putting distance between them. Scared, Lesser turns his head, afraid that he had been caught, and would become their next victim. Suddenly the air seemed to grow thick, as the lead marauder put on a whole new demeanor, one of seriousness and ferocity. Each and every one of the bandits went hush, just as ordered, and stared at the man who was in charge. Luckily none of the outlaws had spotted the defenseless Lesser, including the one who called for silence.

Haphazardly, the chief tossed the object he was holding to his feet, and instantly there were whispers in the crowd about what he had done. The leader yelled for quite once more, this time more aggressively, eyeing his men in anger. The subordinates shut their mouths in an instant, snapping back to focus, looking back to their leader, and then slowly down to his feet, at the object he threw. A quiet sound came from the object, then quickly grew, a shrieking cry echoed. Squinting and looking closer Lesser realized what was on the ground. A newborn baby squirmed and cried, wrapped in a light blue cloth.

With everyone's attention the leader spoke once more, he went on about how everything that they grabbed would be of good use, or would fetch a nice price to the right people, except for the child. He called the infant as small and weak, describing it has having troubles even breathing, and ordered for one of them to get rid of it as soon as possible. Lesser was disgusted, the men began to howl and cheer in excitement at the thought of murdering an infant. Like animals the bandits herded around the child as their chief simply walked away back to his tent so his men could have fun.

One of the men picked up the crying child and raised it above his head, loudly asking how they were going to use it, to which some of the monsters shouted out suggestions in joy, such as drowning it and throwing around the body like a ball, or saving it until they got back to the main base and feeding it to their hounds. As the criminals proudly exclaimed their heinous ideas for slaughtering the child, Lesser swelled with vexation, repulsed with each passing word out of their disgusting mouths. Lesser was desperate, he couldn't just let the raiders have their way with an innocent child, but he hardly had enough energy to walk, let alone cast a spell to save a life… But he tried anyways.

Quickly sneaking closer Lesser stuck to the shadows, dancing behind trees and avoiding the light of the campfire until he was close enough that he could dart behind one of their tents without being spotted. Lesser crawled underneath the back flap of the tent and looked around. The makeshift shelter was small and empty, only big enough for one, but with two bed rolls stuffed into it anyways. On the ground lay two empty sheathes, barely sticking out from under the sleeping bags. Opening the front door of the tent ever so slightly, Lesser peered through the rift and looked at each of the soldiers. Directly in front of him were two men, each with swords at their side. Looking around he sees that every single one of the men were armed with at least a single weapon, which would make the rescue even more difficult. At any moment they could decide to slice the baby, and with one wrong move, Lesser's life would be over.

Lesser closed the flaps and thought to himself, trying to quickly come up with a plan of attack. Magic was out of the question, there was no possible way Lesser could muster up enough power to cast anything. As he stepped back from the tent doors Lesser felt something underneath his foot inside one of the bedrolls. He picked up the bag and dug his hand into it, searching for what his foot had touched. At the very bottom one of his fingers rubbed against something, and he grabbed onto the object. It was cold to the touch, small, and cylindrical, pulling his hand out and looking at it Lesser saw that it was a small vial, only capable of holding a few milliliters of fluid. Inside was a thin, light green liquid, with a pungent smell that hit Lesser's nose as he opened it, burning the inside of his nostrils. It was a dry and bitter smell, that was somewhat familiar to Lesser; the fluid was absinthe. He tilted his head back, drinking all of the contents in a single gulp. It was low quality, likely self-made, but still packed with alcohol. Lesser hadn't had the opportunity to drink in quite some time, so even the poor booze was enough to get him going.

Gripping the bottle and carefully covering the top with his ragged shirt, Lesser clenched the tip of the vial, cracking the top off and exposing the sharp glass edges. Finally, with a deep breath, Lesser clears his head, before rushing out of the tent.

Lesser quickly stepped out, and immediately takes out the soldier on his left, taking the broken bottle in his right hand and plunging it into their neck, slicing the jugular vein. As the man falls to the ground, clenching his neck, Lesser grabs ahold of their sword, and turns around with his arm out, slashing and killing three other men. To Lesser's right, a soldier attacks, swinging their sword with one hand and charging a simple energy blast spell with the other. Lifting his arm, Lesser deflects the sword with his own, then grabs the man's other wrist, with the energy still growing, and tosses them into the fire pit several feet away, causing the fire to surge, exploding and sending the energy and flames flying with a loud boom, wiping out the surrounding raiders. At that moment the leader charged out from his tent, due to the commotion, ordering all of his men to attack the invader.

At the order of their captain, six of the soldiers surrounded Lesser, all of them but one was wielding a sword, the outlier brandishing a long pike. All at once, the blade wielding opponents slashed at Lesser, who used his significant height to his advantage, jumping up and flipping over the men to avoid their attacks, landing behind the raider with the spear. Lesser ducked low, slicing the back of the man's legs, and driving the sword into their abdomen as they fell backwards. As the other soldiers refocused on Lesser, he picks up the dropped pike and with a forceful upwards thrust, pierced through the remaining five men who surrounded him before.

Though he had already taken out over half of the marauders, Lesser was quickly being overwhelmed as he used up what little energy he had. The enduring soldiers were hesitant to attack, as their companions were killed off one by one before their eyes, but now that Lesser was weaponless again and clearly struggling to fight, they took the opportunity to attack. The man with the baby leapt back, landing in the branches of one of the surrounding trees, and launched a magical blast. Attempting to dodge the attack Lesser jumped to the right, barely avoiding a direct hit, however the shockwave of the blast was still enough to cripple his leg.

The loud sound of the blast echoed, rustling the leaves of the trees, and caused the child to cry even louder. Lesser was desperate, if he couldn't find a way to continue, he and the infant would die. Two of the raiders approached, drawing their swords, and slashed downwards at Lesser, taking advantage of the fact that he could hardly stand. As the two blades rushed down towards him, Lesser raised both of his hands, blocking and catching both of the swords in his palms. Clenching his fists down with as much force as he could, the swords broke off into Lesser's hands, and he drove the broken tips into the bodies of the two attackers.

Using the last of his energy in a final push Lesser charged forward, grabbing two more men each by their heads, and crushed their skulls in his palms, then tossed the limp bodies aside. Out of the corner of his eye Lesser saw the raider in the tree, who was holding the child hostage, charging another magical strike. Another man charged at Lesser, ready to strike with their axe, and simultaneously the ball of energy was released, careening towards Lesser. As the axe wielder ran at Lesser he rotated around them, then punched them in the side with enough force to knock them back and block the magic shot with their body. All that was left then were the captain, two men guarding him, and the man in the tree with the baby, and Lesser still didn't have a plan for how he was going to safely retrieve the infant.

Everyone stayed still for a minute, waiting to see who would make the next move until finally the leader himself spoke up, ordering for the man with the child to come back down and hand the baby over to him. As the soldier jumped back down and delivered the child, the captain gave one more order to the three last soldiers for a final strike. Instantaneously the three men appeared around Lesser in a triangle formation, each with a large orb of magic in their hands, before firing the attack.

Time seemed to slow down around Lesser as he focused. The three energy beams that would normally be jolting towards him slowly crept forward. Lesser closed his eyes, summoning forth what miniscule amounts of magic he could from what the absinthe he drank had given him, the blue swirling mark around his left eye began glowing, becoming even more vibrant in color, along with his arm which was now covered in a feint blue swirling fluid like energy. As his eyes opened once again his perception returned to normal, his body had moved faster than the eye could notice, moving past the magical beams and the ones who launched them, letting the energy collide and disperse, killing the three. All the way up to his shoulder, Lesser's arm was lanced cleanly through the captain's body, with the magic surrounding his arm on the other side of the torso formed into a point. Pulling his arm from the body and releasing the energy built up in it, Lesser grabbed the infant from the trembling hands of the marauder captain.

Cracks formed starting at the wound of the captain, and quickly spread across his body. As he watched terrified at his shaking hands flecks of his body began breaking off and floating away, until he looked up in awe of Lesser for his last moments before quickly crumbling away into a pile of nothing but dust and empty armor.

Normally Lesser would have cared more about the riches that the raiders had stolen, but after looking down into his arms and observing the baby who had luckily stopped crying, Lesser realized that though it was disgusting to think about, the raider chief was right about the condition of the kid. It was small, and could barely breathe, let alone move.

Lesser needed to get the child to help as soon as possible, so he rewrapped it in their blue cloth as best he could, and ran for two hours straight without break as it began to rain until he arrived at a city that he knew had an orphanage. Running through the gates as the sun started to rise, Lesser disregarded all of the frightened looks he was receiving from the townsfolk waking up and leaving for their jobs, determined to reach the orphanage. His feet splashed as Lesser rushed through the puddle filled streets, shielding the child from the rain and keeping it close so it could stay warm, until at last he arrived at the front steps of the orphanage, climbing to the top, and loudly knocking of the front door and falling to his knees.

Inside Lesser could hear someone rush down the stairs, until they reached the door and unlocked it. As the deadbolt unlatches and the large wooden door opens, a middle aged woman peered through the crack, before opening it all the way and looking down and gasping, seeing Lesser out of breath, and covered in sweat, blood, and rain, holding out the infant.

The woman took the child, and invited Lesser in, asking one of the other employees for several towels. The two sat down together in an empty room as Lesser dried off, informing the lady what had happened as she observed the sickly infant. The orphanage woman used an observatory spell on the baby, checking its health as well as it's age, she was nervous around Lesser, most people were, hardly speaking or looking at him. Once the matron was finished with her magic, she forced herself to look back at the large verdant elven man she was afraid of, and gave him all of the details of the child he had fought for.

The baby was a boy, born of premature circumstances and was small even for a child who was born early, their race was human, and they could give an estimated date of birth, however not much else could be inferred with what little they had available on him. With a shaky voice the woman told Lesser that the boy most likely did not have long to live, and claimed that under normal circumstances that they would have welcomed him with open arms and done everything they could for the boy, but due to the war she would have to reject him, not having the supplies or finances to treat him. Handing Lesser a cloth diaper, a tattered pair of baby clothes, and an extra cloth, the woman told him that he could care for the boy if he wished, stating that it would likely be best for him, because most people in the area would not accept him, having been brought in by a "murk."

Lesser grit his teeth at this, hating the name the humans of the continent had given his kind, despite the fact he wanted nothing to do with the people of his so called homeland, despite never stepping foot within its boundaries. The truth was obvious to Lesser, the boy stood no chance there, not even the head of the orphanage wanted to deal with him because he was in contact with another species she deemed lower than herself. All of the cabinets in the room both Lesser and the lady sat in here stocked full of food and clothes for hundreds of children as long as they were good wholesome human boys and girls who had nothing to do with murks, the war, or any other disgusting races. So Lesser took the boy as suggested, along with the orphanage's second rate hand-me-downs, and stormed out of the building knowing in both his head and his heart that he would raise the boy to be better than any human nearby would.

Jordan wraps up his story as he and Can reached the stairs of the underground subway system which runs throughout the entire country and its territories. "After that I guess Lesser named me, and yeah, we've been together ever since."

Jordan looked over to Can whose eyes were lit up with the appearance of immersion that one could only have from being truly pulled into a story. It is then that Jordan realizes he just continued to go on and on during the entire walk, without ever giving Can the chance to say anything.

"So, any questions, comments, or concerns?' Jordan jokes.

Can blinks a few times, not having fully absorbed all that was just said to him. "Uh, a few."

Jordan looks back away, taking his first steps down into the subway "Shoot."

"You said that your dad described the bandits that had kidnapped you as wearing armor with a headless crow, right?" Can asks, quickly stepping down the stairs to catch up.

"Yeah?'

"Did he ever tell you anything more about that raider group?"

"Don't think so, just said that they were some pretty bad guys you didn't want to mess with back then."

"Saying that you didn't want to mess with them in those times is an understatement. They were called 'The Aerial View,' and were way more than pretty bad. The Aerial View had as much force as some smaller kingdoms sixteen years ago. Your father must be amazingly strong to have taken on as many as you say he did."

Jordan pauses for a moment, slightly taken aback that Lesser never mentioned that, seeing as how he loved to brag, then lets it go, knowing that Lesser, while being an almighty force, was also usually too lazy to go into full detail about things. "If they were so strong, how come I've never heard of them doing anything recently?"

Can responds. "Most people just assume they fell apart, but some people claim the group still exists, doing small time jobs."

"Interesting," The two boys continue walking, until they reach the ticket booth. "Alright, I said I'd pay for your ticket, and I'm a man of my word, so where you going? And don't worry about the price."

Expecting to meet eyes with his new friend, Jordan looks to his left, but instead of Can standing beside him Jordan sees nothing. Jordan looks around, yelling Can's name as he seemingly disappeared without a trace, but he is nowhere to be found. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Jordan goes to yell the name of his missing friend again, but is silenced by the feeling of being grabbed by the neck and strangled. Jordan's chest feels collapsed, suddenly unable to pull in any breath or make a sound and the feeling of being choked around his neck growing more and more painful, tightening down on him, and increasing in temperature until it feels like the skin on his neck being burned. Before his eyes the ticket booth along all the people in the crowded subway fade away into smoke, leaving Jordan alone on the train platform as a train pulls up in front of him, opening its doors and releasing thick billows of smoke which quickly fills the space.

"Tell him nothing, or else..." A voice speaks, seemingly from inside Jordan's own head, painfully scratching at the insides of his ears.

The black smoke burns Jordan's eyes as it flows towards him, surrounding his body, and slowly swirling around him. "Verréckt…" Jordan thinks to himself, fighting his hardest to get his voice out, and closing his eyes as his mind becomes foggier and weak.

On his right shoulder, Jordan can feel something, nothing like the harsh hot feeling of Verréckt's magic. "You okay there, sonny?" The voice of an old man pierces through smoke and fogginess of Jordan's mind, freeing him from the grip of his internal captor. "Say, I remember you, an elf came by and showed us a picture of you. He's waiting for you down by the bathrooms, they're just down that hall," The elderly employee pointed to a hallway away from the platform, directing Jordan to his father, and then walked back off to his post.

Nervously shaken up from another run in with Verréckt, Jordan carefully walks to the restrooms, avoiding eye contact with the surrounding people in the bustling subway. After accidentally bumping into several people walking in the opposite direction, Jordan makes it to the restroom hallway and turns the corner, immediately picking Lesser out of the crowd as he sat by himself on a bench. Lesser, who was already looking up and down the walkway, spots Jordan, connecting eyes with him, and stands up quickly, rushing past people to get to him.

As Lesser approaches him, Jordan looks down, hanging his head, not in sadness, but in fear of what might happen if he were to tell his father the truth of what continued to happen inside of his own head. "Hey Less-" Jordan stops, caught off guard by an unfamiliar feeling. Looking up Jordan sees Lesser with his eyes closed, as he hugs him closely.

Lesser let's go of the hug and stands back with his hands still on Jordan's shoulders, and looks into his son's eyes. "Chin up, kid. It doesn't matter if you got in or not, you fought great."

"Actually, I got in with a unanimous vote," Jordan responds as humbly as he can, bringing a grand smile to Lesser's face and filling his eyes with pride and joy.

"That's my boy! Don't you scare me like that," Lesser shouts hugging Jordan even tighter and lifting him off the ground, as people quickly walk past them. "Oops, gotta watch that arm."

Setting Jordan back onto the concrete ground, Lesser takes the stack of clothing along with the entrance paper Jordan had carried this entire way. "Don't worry, the only pain was from embarrassment," Jordan says, rubbing his bandaged arm in the sling.

"This is a big deal, Jordan. There is cause for celebration! Looks like Lady Luck is finally starting to look down on us," Lesser wraps his arm around his son's shoulder as they begin to walk to the train platform. The unlikely pair laugh with each other, in glee of their new found situation, and get onto the first train back to their home to receive some well-deserved restful sleep.

 **…**

A week had come to pass and it was finally time for both Jordan's and Lesser's first day of school. Jordan had slept through most of the week, missing the first several days before waking back up in normal healthy condition, no longer needing bandages. Somehow not once in the week long break did Jordan ever came into contact with either of the two men who randomly continued to harass him on the day of the entrance tournament, which was, in reality, more frightening than comforting to him. It made no sense to the boy, why not to take control as he slept through several full days while recovering?

For the few days that he was awake during the intermission before school started, Jordan chose to train much harder than usual, both to keep up with, or even surpass, some of his classmates whom he would be introduced to, as well as to help him try and resist the effects of Luth's and Verréckt's magic on his mind, still unsure of their intents, or really anything else when it came to the mysterious duo. As ordered, Lesser was never informed of what happened to Jordan whilst on the train platform, only knowing what he had been told before.

Jordan woke up early on the first day of school, hoping to have plenty of time to gather himself and everything he would need. First Jordan took a shower, cleaning and brushing his wild and wavy hair, tying it back into a simple bun, mainly to keep his dark locks from drooping and getting in his way, however the added professionality it seemed to add was a bonus. The next thing for Jordan to focus on was his outfit he would be wearing. He knew that after the first week he would pretty much be required to wear the academy's uniform, and while he didn't care all too much for fashion, Jordan did believe in making a good first impression. A simple pair of black distressed skinny jeans, dark high-tops, and a green traditionally designed sleeveless tunic Lesser had crafted for him in a t-shirt style was the wardrobe that Jordan decided to wear, deeming it formal enough to have on and give an accurate view of his personality, while still giving off the correct feel for a high quality learning environment.

Walking out of his room and into the kitchen Jordan is greeted by the facetious voice of Lesser. "Well aren't you up early there?"

Rounding the corner Jordan is surprised, seeing Lesser sitting down at the kitchen table and drinking a cup of black coffee, looking surprisingly dapper wearing a full suit and tie with his straw like hair slicked back, appearing much more professional, like a teacher should, instead of his usual rugged demeanor.

"Damn, where do you even go to get a suit that big made?" Jordan jests, walking over to the counter and picking up a banana from a bowl, peeling it and taking a bite.

"Ha, good question! Ought to ask the academy about that, all I did was give them my measurements."

The two laugh and talk, wondering how the day is going to go as they finish their breakfast, until eventually Lesser looks down at his watch and realizes that the two needed to finally leave. Jordan lazily follows behind Lesser, who had already grabbed his work supplies and walked out the front door, and sticks with him until they reach the academy.

"Kay, I gotta split here. I'll see you soon," Lesser says, walking off to a different entrance to the school.

"Where are you going?" Jordan asks stopping and yelling to his father.

"I'm not the student here, teachers report to a different room first."

At that moment Lesser looks down at his watch, and starts to jog towards the door, presumably running behind schedule. Looking away from his dad, Jordan focuses back onto the school.

"Magical Academy of Osibir," the grand golden letters spelled out on across the front of the enormous structure. The entirety of the building's exterior was crafted from a mix of white granite and some of the most advanced materials available, giving the school a feeling of regality and importance. No other building in the area gave off the same energy as Osibir Academy, granted none were as important. The crown jewel of the country was in front of Jordan, looming over him.

Air rushes into Jordan's lungs as he takes a deep breath, giving himself a moment to fully take in the intensity of the situation he is now in, somehow being accepted to a prestigious mystical academy against all odds, and against his own will. In front of the school there is a small table with a person sitting at it, holding a sign which says "Find Your Class Here," that Jordan approaches.

"Name sir?" The kind young woman asked as Jordan stepped to her booth.

"Jordan."

"Let me see here…" Tracing her fingers across the ink letters, and flipping through the thick papers of the roster booklet, she scours the pages to find Jordan's name in the forest of dozens of other children's. "I'm not sure I see you here…"

Jordan raises his eyebrow in confusion, and digs into his pants pocket to dig out his acceptance certificate he had brought, just in case something like this happened. "I should be. They gave me this letter after I won the final round last week," He says in a slightly worried tone, showing the paper to the staff member.

The young lady gasps in surprise and ducks below her stand, rooting her hands around for something. "You are absolutely right, sir. I'm so sorry about that," She comes back up holding a much smaller roster, listing only several names, and an envelope with his name written above orders to wait on opening it.. "That's right; you WERE the champion of the first batch of competitors. Congratulations, by the way. You'll be in class in class D20, that'll be on the very top floor all the back in the sphinx wing," The kind lady crosses off his name and looks back with a wide smile, before putting the list away and giving Jordan the letter and directing him towards the elevators.

The halls were surprisingly empty as Jordan wandered to find his classroom, each of his footsteps standing out as they landed on the intricate marble floors with each stride. Walking to his class was already a struggle for Jordan; he'd never been inside of such a large building before. Finally, in the very rear of the academy there was a lone room, sectioned off from the rest of the school.

Stepping forward for the first time into the classroom, the eyes of everyone in the room lock onto Jordan, turning their heads to face the last of the students to arrive apparently, as each of the seats were filled, with the exception of a single one at the front of the room. The class was immaculately designed, equaling the size of four of the normal rooms combined. The walls were constructed of large sheets of reinforced glass, making it able to view out into the fifteen hundred acre back field of the academy. The floor was patterned with gold and silver runes which floated across the black rock through some form of magical incantation.

At the front of the room stood several people, first and most prominently was Headmaster Ebony, looking just as intense as Jordan had remembered. To the left of the headmaster stood his brother, Cardinal Ivory, as well as the two upperclassmen that covered the first part of the tournament, Zion and Jamil. Right of Ebony was someone unfamiliar to Jordan: a male elf, but not one of the same race as Lesser. This man was one of the Marsh Elves, one of the many species that dotted the country. He was much shorter in stature compared to Lesser, standing at the average height for a human male, and also lacked the signature "mark," which each Jade Elf had unique to themselves. Not many other differences stood out when first looking at the man, which could differentiate him from a normal human, aside from the normal pointed ears all elves have.

"I didn't think I was late…" Jordan says with his head low disregarding the other students, and slowly walking up towards the front of the room, where the only remaining empty seat was.

"You aren't," Headmaster Ebony responds, his head following the young man as he slowly approaches like a lost dog. "Your peers simply had the wisdom to be early on such an important day."

"Oh, sorry," Jordan sits down awkwardly, trying his hardest to avoid making eye contact with the others in the room.

"No need to apologize, son. It shows that you're good at following orders, an invaluable skill to have for a talented warrior."

The sound of the Headmaster's gruff voice was surprisingly comforting and welcoming, almost like a grandfather, worn and experienced with age, or at least how Jordan would imagine that to sound. The other adults did not appear to share the same endearing compassion towards the young man however. Ivory wore the same permanent scouring look that he had during the tournament. However, the mysterious elven employee projected repugnance that shone through, clear as his blue eyes which he used to shoot his gaze, like a lance through the heart of the boy. The two locked eyes for a minute, one with a look of hatred, the other a look of concern and confusion. Had Jordan truly messed up all ready, before class even started on the first day of school?

"Ahem, now then, I believe we can now begin," Headmaster Ebony speaks up, calling everyone's attention, although his presence already seemed to demand it. "Firstly, I am a firm believer in giving appreciation where it is due, and as such I would like to congratulate each and every one of you for your performances in the entrance tournament. I would also like to formally thank you all as your headmaster for accepting our offer to have you at our academy. We here at the Osibir Academy of Magic are glad you all could join us, and welcome you with open arms. Hopefully by this point you know myself, and Cardinal Ivory here," He says motioning to his left, before looking over to his right. "This man however requires some introduction. This is Mr. Spitamid, and he will be your homeroom, as well as basic trainings teacher, and if I am under the correct impression, he has a couple words he would like to say to you all."

"Thank you, Headmaster sir. That is correct; I do indeed have several things I would like to say to the class," The teacher nods his head to his superior, and looks back to his students, clearing his throat before giving his speech. "I would like to iterate one thing foremost right up front; it has been deemed that this group of students will be our elite class, every year has one and you all were good enough to be at the top. Be grateful of your position before I ruin it for all of you, because I will work you until your muscles cry in agony and your body is bloody, then ask you why you haven't been whittled down to the bone yet. We have a wide array of students this year, all with unique backgrounds, but do not think that I will give any of you special treatment, because I do not care about where you come from. Some of you are royalty. Your station and who your parents are mean nothing to me. Some of you are from other kingdoms. Well you're in Osibir now. More importantly, you're in my class, and as such you will follow my rules without hesitation. For the first time we have children enrolled who were originally born in Aodirn before its downfall. Some of you even have family working at the academy… all of that means nothing to me."

Jordan rolls his eyes, looking away from his teacher, and disregarding all that he said. He knew that he would receive some push back, but it surprised him just how soon it took for someone to form a grudge against him let alone a teacher.

"Excuse me! Do we have a problem here sir?" Mr. Spitamid snaps his head over to Jordan, scowling with fiery intensity.

The young man can feel his face become red and hot as the gaze of everyone in the room turns to him. Jordan looks around, making sure he was what everybody was glaring at, as he could've sworn his reaction was at least fairly subtle, with the sound of someone scoffing across the room being much more obvious and outspoken.

"Yes, I'm talking to you. Would you care to say that out loud to my face, instead of being a smartass to yourself?"

"I didn't say-" Jordan starts to defend himself, before being cut off by his teacher putting their hand up.

A sharp pain forms at the very front of Jordan's head, as if someone was peeling off the flesh and skin from his skull. The pain continues to grow until it ends suddenly with a feeling of relief. In the outward hand of Spitamid was a small pulsing orb of green energy, he twirls the sphere in his fingers before taking it into his palm and crushing it with his fist.

"Doesn't seem like it means nothing to you," The exact sound of Jordan's voice in a facetious tone emanates from the released energy, with Spitamid coyly smiling.

"I can and will know anything that you think, feel, and do. Do not think for a moment you can sneak anything past me. Thoughts are a powerful thing, that's why I make sure mine are known."

The teacher walks over to the now exposed and embarrassed Jordan and slams his palms onto his desk. Jordan moves back in his seat, away from Spitamid as he moves his head forward, bringing their faces closer. "You and your 'father' have no mantel here. Unfortunately, I don't make the rules here, but know that if I did, neither of you would be allowed at this academy."

"Spitamid!" Headmaster Ebony shouts, and at this order Spitamid backs away from Jordan, returning to his position. "You have expressed your concerns to me plenty, do not harass the boy."

"Yes sir. My apologies."

"See to it that you do not act up again... Now, your teacher was correct in saying that this group will be our honored class for this year. We expect great things from all of you after seeing what you have to offer from the entrance fights. You thirteen will have every class together, learning the basics of how to be the best warriors this continent has to offer, with the exception of the time you'll spend with your individual teams, which we will explain in the next few moments. You will meet with Mr. Spitamid at the beginning of each instructional day, and will spent the first portion of the day with him for central training before reporting to whatever specific class is assigned to that day. Ivory, would you care to tell the students their class schedule?"

Ebony's brother nods his head and complies. "Not at all, Headmaster. As stated, you are to report here at the start of each day, but in addition to this you will meet with the rest of your team at the end of each day after your core classes have finished. Your classes are as follows children: Mondays will be designated to blacksmithing and weapons handling. Tuesdays you will focus on stealth and reconnaissance. Wednesdays are centered around survival. Thursday you will study cunning and tactical strategy. Finally, Friday you meet with your instructor and conduct team classes. Obviously, weekends have been scheduled to be your free days unless otherwise stated by your instructors."

"Thank you, brother. I believe that covers all of those bases pretty well. Now then," Ebony looks around at his audience of students, insuring none of them seemed too confused or overwhelmed. "You all are probably tired of listening to us old folks, so lend us your ears for just a tad longer and then we will allow you to speak. While you students were resting and preparing for school, we here at the academy spent the week off analyzing our information and reviewing the videos from the tournament in order to figure out the best way to group you all into teams. After hours of studying and contemplation the staff and judges have all agreed on what we believe to be the best and well-rounded groups possible, including those who have been chosen to be your mentors," Ebony reaches down and pulls from a pouch at his side a state of the art Magi-Tablet, and taps a button on its screen before placing it back. "Your teams will be divided into three groups of four students and a single mentor for each. Once your teachers arrive, we shall conduct introductions and inform you of where you will be sorted for the year."

At the rear of the room two sharp knocks can be heard from the wooden doorframe that enters the classroom. Looking back, the students watch as two men waltz into and advance to the front of the room through the rows of desks. The headmaster, Ivory, and Spitamid move back to create room for the instructors, being Lesser, and a man with a face that Jordan now recognized as the man whom he talked to after he woke up in the infirmary. As the team leaders began to position themselves at the front to face the students a sound of one of the desk chairs scraping across the floors catches the attention of Jordan, who looks over only to be dumbfounded by his own absentmindedness to not notice who was now walking to the rest of the mentors when he first entered the room. Maybe Jordan shouldn't have been so inattentive when entering the class, because now completing the arrangement of three instructors is the princess of the damn country, Hikari.

As everyone is staring at the mentors the headmaster steps back up to speak. "Your mentors have already been informed of who they will be teaching, and although some of you already know each other, when you are sorted into your team, we would like you to introduce yourself. Simply say your name, maybe add in something about yourself, like the kind of magic you use. Mentors, would you be willing to break the ice for them?"

"Not at all, Headmaster," The princess speaks up for the instructors. "I'm Hikari, and in addition to being the leader of the Psi Team, I will be a student alongside you all," She introduces herself, then looking to her right, signaling for the other man to go.

The man Jordan had met in the sickbay lifts his hand to wave, awkwardly smiling at the group of children. "Hey guys, I'll be leading the Phi Team, and my name is Jamin."

Lastly, there was Lesser, who stood out next to the two humans, towering over them in both size and age. "Name's Lesser, I'll be the mentor for Team Xi."

With the instructors introduced Ivory speaks up this time, delivering the final instructions. "Very good, thank you. When checking in you should have been handed an envelope with your name on it. At this moment you may now open the letter, and read the paper inside." The room fills with the sound of ripping paper as the children tear open their envelopes. Jordan is one of the last people to open his note, attempting to pristinely part the opening of the envelope, only to mess up and rip off the top and pulling out the sheet of paper. On the parchment was a large symbol **Ξ** with the word 'xi' underneath, along with the number four.

"On the paper is the team you have been assigned to, along with a number between one and four. Going in the order of how your mentors introduced themselves you will do the same for yourself, going in numerical order. So, would the person with the number one on Team Psi please speak up?"

In the middle of the group of students a hand is raised, calling attention to them. First up was a girl whose looks took Jordan by surprise. Her skin reflected her eye color; an almost golden hue. It was obvious she had spent a large amount of time on her physical presentation, from her spotless skin and stainless clothes. One of the more energetic students, she had dark loosely-coiled curly brown hair that was cutoff at her shoulders and she wore oval-shapped glasses on her round face. "My name's Mona, and I use incantation magic!"

"Good. Next?" The headmaster encourages.

"I'm Nicole," In the seat diagonally behind Jordan, sat Nicole, the same girl he had met twice before, and fought in the second round of his fights. She seemed well, aside from maybe some early morning grogginess, but otherwise completely unaffected from the fighting that took place a week prior, which brought relief to Jordan, after having struck her with the body blow of a lifetime. "And uh, my magic is called effervescence."

Headmaster Ebony held off leading along the introductions, hoping the next person would simply continue, however after a moment of silence and looking around the classroom for nothing he chooses to speak. "And who might be the first for Xi?"

"Oh, sorry, my bad guys," Almost out of nowhere a high-pitched and slightly scratchy voice appears from the very back of the room by the door with a spirit of innocence. Universally all of the students turn back in their chairs to look behind themselves and see who was speaking, only for each and every one of them to be dazed with surprise and bewilderment. Standing outside of the door frame, entirely too big to fit through, even bending down as he was doing so he could see through, was a giant man thing. His general form was of a human man, an extremely large and broad man, at least eight and a half feet tall, but aside of his humanoid shape everything was outside the relm of humanity. His frame was constructed like an arthropod, with the body being sectioned apart by a plated exoskeleton which was attached to more sensitive skin underneath, almost akin to a permanent suit of armor. Every part of his figure was protected by his shell, with the exception of where the plates met at his points of movement, complete with a carapace that wrapped over his back and onto his head. His other animalistic qualities where apparent with him having several small antenna-esque appendages on his otherwise average cheery face, and two sets of more insect style arms tucked below his main pair, which were in essence, simply gigantic human arms. "I'm the number one for Xi. Nice to meet you all, my human name is Asterisk, but my human friends just call me Aster. Also, I'm like REALLY strong."

The room remains in shocked silence. Before the awkward silence could progress any longer, a boy cleared his throat.

"Uh... So, I'm Trey." A low voice spoke. Jordan twisted his head to see who the voice belonged to. He saw a boy with skin like rich chocolate with a head hung a bit low, obviously nervous. He had short, kinky black hair that had potentially just been cut before coming to the Academy. His face was somewhat chubby, noticeabley in the cheeks, though the rest of his body had been in peak shape. He had dark-brown eyes that seemed to twinkle due to the sunlight creeping into the classroom.

Continuing where Trey left off, a boy seated next to him spoke up. "Yeah, cool, let's just keep this going. Name's Kalu." The boy named Kalu had very interesting physical features. His hair, obviously naturally curly, had been touched up so that it stood on the top of his head like a crown. His umber skin had obviously been cleaned several times over and he sat with something of a slouch. From the clothing he wore, Jordan figured he must have been from a richer family.

From that point on the introductions went smoothly with everyone saying their names, picking up where the last left off. Each team had now been established, with all of their members introduced and acquainted with one another. This process took several minutes, occupying a sizable portion of the class time, and once completed Ebony saunters in front of the mentors, ready to instruct once again.

"Well done, children. Now I must leave to speak to the others classes, but before I go, I have one more piece of information for you all; you all have been provided and assigned dormitories here of campus. Mr. Spitamid will sort all this out with you once I am good, but I would just like to thank you all a final time. Goodluck you all, and farewell."

And with that the headmaster left the advanced class, followed by his brother, leaving them to be with their homeroom teacher and mentors, Hikari returning to her seat as a student.

"Now then, this first week is only an introduction to what you will be encountering while enrolled at the academy, so I will not ask to much of you to start off," Spitamid speaks up, truly starting up the education part of the class. "However, I am going to pass out a test, just so I can see what you all know."

The papers make their way through the room into the hands of each of the students, and looking down at the test Jordan is lost. The words on the parchment were almost a foreign language to him, asking about historical events he'd never heard of, the dynamics of projectile magic, and symbols that quite literally were in a tongue he did not speak, telling him to translate the runes so that he might break the enchantment if it were real. The period seemed to drudge along yet fly by simultaneously, all the while Jordan is being haunted by all of the knowledge he hadn't picked up in life, and the class ending with only five of the questions being answered, most likely incorrectly.

"Time's up, pencils down," The teacher orders, walking by to pick up the assessments. "After class you will meet with your teams at the location designated on the board, if you need help finding where you are supposed to go, ask me after the bell."

Jordan's sheet was one of the last to be picked up, with Spitamid hardly skimming over it as he took it off the desk after seeing it hardly started. Discouragement filled Jordan as all he could simply do was look down at his desk and trace his fingers across the top, hoping to do better as the year progresses.

"Hey, you alright?" A voice asks behind Jordan, reaching over their desk to tap him on the shoulder. Turning around, Jordan meets eyes with a young man, who had previously introduced himself as Nick during the beginning portion of class. He was a pale kid, abnormally pale, his bright blue veins easily visible through his skin, climbing up the length of his arms, and his dark eyes contrasted the rest of his face, reflecting the harsh light let in by the glass walls, along with his sandy hair.

"Yeah, I just didn't know any of that crap. I've never been to a real school."

"Don't worry about it, I was lost too. Doubt any of us knew too much of it, that's kinda the point," Nick reassures Jordan, standing up and looking at the board, reading the meeting point of the three teams. "I wouldn't sweat it if I were you, I saw you take on Nicole in the entrance tests. You keep that kind of practical skill up and you'll kill it here."

Ringing blared in the room, ending the conversation between the two boys and the class period. Nicks walks off, meeting with his fellow members in Phi, likely already good friends from how they immediately began laughing and joking as they walked out of the room, leaving Jordan alone at his desk. Looking around, Jordan was one of the only people left in the room at all, standing up from his seat and reading the large words on the board, instructing him, and the rest of team Xi, to gather at the entrance of the forest terrain of the back lot.

It was a pretty straight shot to the enormous training field once on the ground floor. The training grounds expanded for miles, incorporating multiple terrains for the students to train on for various occasions, with the forest being at the south east corner. The entrance to the woodland section was clearly indicated by a grand gate, reaching as high as the surrounding the trees. Posted in front of the entryway was Lesser, arms crossed and waiting for his students to arrive. Asterisk, the giant crab man, had already reached the gate and was waiting with Lesser, and with Jordan approaching they only needed the other two members to turn up. Shortly afterwards the remaining two comrades walked up, though not together. In fact, it seemed as if one of them was making an attempt to distance themselves.

Now with all of Team Xi gathered it was time for their first meeting as a team, along with Lesser's first time at leading or teaching. "Alright, so my name is Lesser, you can just call me by that, I don't care about the whole mister and sir thing. And I know you all were just forced to meet each other, but we're all new to this, and since we're gonna be working together from now on you're gonna have to do it again. So what I want you to do is go ahead and say your name, grab one of these, and tell me why it is you decided to go through all the hassle to go here," Lesser orders, holding out a paper bag starting with Asterisk, who eagerly reached in with one of his small arthropod arms and pulling out a white piece of leather with a simple snap.

"Hi, my human name is Asterisk, but my human friends just call me Aster for short. I chose to come here because it's a rite of passage for my kind to go on an adventure outside our home," Asterisk responds, whilst fiddling with the band of leather in each of his six hands.

Next to Asterisk, as well as next in line was Stryde. "I'm Stryde, and I figured if there was any way to reach my fullest potential, it was to enroll here," His resonate voice was muffled with his mouth, along with the majority of his face, being covered by a cerulean mask that went with the rest of his attire. Most of his lightweight frame was padded with a style of gi that Jordan had never seen before in pictures or movies. The outfit worn by the budding ninja was still light, like a typical shinobi's ensemble, with a black under suit, but differed with large portions of him covered by a thicker, more advanced, protective layer that matched the hue of the bright sky, and holsters to carry firearms, instead of traditional weapons, like shuriken or kunai. He too retrieves a strip of hide from the bag held out in front of him before continuing onto the second to last person.

Before even getting the chance to extend the bag to her, the next member snatches a band from the brown bag, and sharply states her name. "Genesis. It was my family's wish that I attend Osibir Academy," Genesis spoke with slickness, though her words did not come off as superficial. Her words were honey. Smooth. Sweet. Captivating. Her soft voice lingered in the ears, hitting all the perfect notes of beauty, despite her apparent disinterest in the men she had been grouped with and circumstances she was now placed into. Her appearance emitted the same air as her speech. Genesis had porcelain skin, oceanic eyes, golden blonde hair like rays of light. Yet she presented her fairness with reserve, as if you could get hurt by getting too close. The ends of her hair were dyed a vibrant pink which went along with her full body battle-suit, only with darker muted tones.

Finally, the last of the bunch, Jordan reaches into and grabs from the bag the final band from his father, and now teacher, and introduces himself to the group. "My name's Jordan, and I guess my family made me compete too," Jordan speaks, slyly jabbing at the man who was now responsible for him being at the school.

"Fair 'nuff," Lesser says, crumpling up the paper bag and throwing it to the ground behind him. "First off, I want you all to snap on the bracelet to one of your arms."

"What are we going to use them for?" Stryde asks, followed by the snap of the button on his bracelet.

"We're gonna do a little training mission here."

"Are the other teams doing anything like this?" Asks Genesis this time.

"No, the others are already familiar with each other, and know at least somewhat how their magic works. This is our learning time where we get to know each other and what we can do," Lesser answers, removing his suit jacket and taking off his button up, tossing both to the ground, leaving only a tank top on. Now with his absence of sleeves the students can see that Lesser too is wearing the white bracelets, with the exception of the number of leather bands he wore. Whereas the children only received a single band, Lesser had four, with two on each arm. "Simple rules: each band is a point, so take somebody's band and you get a point. Your goal is to end with as many points as you can. Time is up when this alarm goes off," Out of his back pocket Lesser pulls out a Magi-Tablet, and sets a timer, before tucking it back into his pants. "I'm not gonna let you know how long you have, so stay on your toes. Now, I won't be actively going after you all, but if you would wish to attempt a lot of points, I will be standing in the clearing at the center of the forest. That's pretty much it. The entire forest district is fair game, and you have sixty seconds from when I signal to get as far as you can before starting. Any questions?"

Unanimously the students shake their head, waiting on Lesser to let them loose. After a moment of anticipation and tension, Lesser finally raises his arm and snaps, signaling the beginning of the team's first group activity.

Each of the members had a different approach as how to start their trek into the woods. Asterisk, was the slowest of the bunch, and knowing this simply ran straight into the thicket of trees. Stryde used his more stealth based tactics and agile body to take to the trees, using the branches as not only transportation, but also camouflage. The most unique approach was probably Genesis' strategy of running as far around the perimeter of the grove as she could before plunging into the shaded abyss of flora. The first to use magic was Jordan, using his soundwaves to blast him skywards, launching far into the forest after flying through the sky with several boosts, using his magic while he could before it would give away his position.

"3... 2... 1," Jordan counts to himself in his head, with the game now officially active. The thicket as heavily shaded, making it difficult to see, even in the dead of the afternoon. Certainly not hearing anybody around him, Jordan takes a moment to survey his surroundings, granted most of it looked the same. There was no possible way Asterisk would be a threat to him, at least not at this time. No chance he could've caught up. No, the real threat in Jordan's eyes was Stryde. The shade was a ninja's natural element, and assuming his outfit wasn't just a fashion statement, Stryde had likely trained for circumstances like this one. Surely though he wouldn't use his guns against his own teammates though, at least not with real bullets.

 _Whoosh!_

Out of nowhere air rushes past his left ear, with whatever caused it barely avoiding his head. Terrified what he had just assured himself would be impossible just happened Jordan's neck instinctively whips around to follow it, with nothing to be seen. The moment his Line of sight is changed however, Jordan feels a powerful sharp thwack of the back of his neck, catching him off guard, knocking him off balance, and with a swift swipe of his legs knocked onto the dirt.

With a tug at his arm, Jordan rolls over swiftly, kicking upwards as he twists his body, knocking their hand away and saving his point from being stolen. Jordan spins in reverse, rolling on his back away from his attacker before bouncing back to his feet, only to see the shadowy shape of the body sprinting towards him. He braces his body to counter attack the charger, but again is caught off guard by another strike somehow on the back of his head. Looking back up in the nick of time Jordan watches as the still advancing assailant catches a short staff in midair, inferring it must have sort of boomerang quality that allowed it to return to their hand. The staff is brought back down, being swung hard enough that the air is audible as it rushes down.

To match the strike of the downward staff Jordan raises his right arm, stinging in pain as the two collide, but still better than taking another hit to the head. Locked in a stalemate of force the aggressor goes for a punch, this time aiming lower than their previous attacks, focused on the stomach with this attack. Jordan intercepts the punch, grabbing their right arm by the wrist, where the white band was attached, and realizing something as he holds them in place.

The two stall for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move. Wind starts to pick up, blowing the fallen leaves across the ground, and rustling the branches above. Small rays of light seep in through the separation in the now flowing treetops, allowing the two warriors in deadlock hold sight between their eyes, and confirming what Jordan had theorized from the feel of the other's wrist. The one he was trapped in conflict with was Genesis, not the originally assumed Stryde. They allow the air to cascade along their face, pushing back on one another, as they stare each other down with the minimal light. The wind slows down into a breeze, until eventually it dies out, leaving the two in shadows once more, and in an instant the fight erupts back into action once contact was lost.

Mutually Genesis and Jordan back off, each distancing themselves, but taking a stance that would allow them to leap into action at any moment. Off in the distance a sound goes off, not one like the alarm to stop, but a more natural sound. This catches Genesis' attention, turning her head in the direction it came from, shifting her weight to run towards it instead of staying to fight Jordan. He takes the opportunity to use the same strategy she first employed against him, using her intrigue against her, and charging the moment she takes a step. As her foot meets the ground Jordan pounces, using a small boost to close the gap between them and catch up to her, and after the second step Genesis takes, he is already caught up beside her. Jordan didn't have any intent to fight her any longer however, his goal was to get in, take the band, get out.

White band in reach, Jordan extends his arm to unclasp it and steal the point from Genesis. The fingers of Jordan slip between the bracelet and the female's wrist, and boosts again to get as far away as possible. The instant Jordan casts his sound magic the snap of the band unbuttons, and but just as he goes to close his hand down, Genesis slams the butt of her staff into the top of his hand, knocking the band out of his grasp and sending him flying from his own spell empty handed.

Chasing down that single point from Genesis was lost cause at this point and Jordan acknowledged this, riding the wave of energy of his spell off to the point of commotion. There Asterisk was, stuck in place with a net tangled to the top of his armored shell more so than trapping him. Following up the pattern of the netted rope there was a staff, barely visible amongst the branches, a trap likely set by Genesis. Asterisk struggled with getting the net off of him, all of his points and edges catching the twine that ensnared his top half. Now was time for another assessment, attempt to take the band from the bumbling crab man, or leave him and hope that the trap keeps him occupied enough for Jordan to find shelter.

"WAH-" A blue blur of a body flies by the two boys, colliding with one of the trees, breaking the first layer of bark and tumbling onto the ground.

"Once engaged, an opponent will never give up the chase knowing that they have the upper hand," Coming forth out of the dreary thicket, Lesser marches with vicious intent, lapis blue magic radiating off him and illuminating the dark underbrush with a deep menacing light. "Especially not when you lead them right back to your allies."

The simulation mission had hardly started, yet Stryde was showing pain, barely able to hold himself up as he claws his way to his feet, using tree he had just violently met with to stand. His clothes were torn, already tattered from his altercation with Lesser, with some parts left covered with circular burn marks. Lesser hadn't even a drop of sweat on his brow, shining only with power, having effortlessly knocked Stryde around, foolishly thinking he could take on his mentor.

Observing the scene set before his eyes, Stryde analyzes the situation, Asterisk and Jordan separating himself and Lesser with no injuries apparent of the two boys. Regaining balance and steadying himself on his legs, Stryde takes off, bounding into the shadowy branches once more to escape the onslaught, making it out with only minor injuries. Though evident Lesser was restraining himself, he still managed to shake the young ninja up pretty well, leaving a fierce impression on the boy.

Lesser took step after threatening step, slowly creeping towards the two new healthy playthings he had been led to. "Hello there, boy," Lesser says with a savage smile, jabbing only Jordan with hostile looks, like a predator stalking its prey. The father and son had sparred before, but nothing with this intensity. Jordan had never seen that look cross the regularly relaxed face of his foster parent, but the terror truly set in for the boy when he realized the joy Lesser was experiencing letting loose a little.

With intense resolution Lesser swings his arm, extending his magic outwards to the two boys. Jordan uses his sound to shoot over, narrowly dodging the reach of the noxious spell. Asterisk remained still, taking the attack without hesitation, and to Jordan's amazement, was completely unscathed, with his shell taking the brunt of the strike and resisting the toxic qualities of Lesser's magic, which had eaten through the net attached to him.

Jordan was trapped once more, staring across the grove to Lesser, stuck as to what to do, except this time he had the addition of Asterisk, and the uncertainty of what he was going to do as well. In a flash, Lesser charges, reeling his arm back to hit Jordan who braces, spreading his legs and taking a defensive stance. Halfway to his target Lesser stops dead in his tracks, becoming still out of nowhere, and dropping to the ground with a look of astonishment taking over his once confident face.

By the back of his shirt Jordan is tugged, being forcefully pulled along, looking up to see that Asterisk had him by two of his smaller arms running away from their halted mentor. Struggling to get free, Jordan writhes, twisting his body and pulling on his shirt where he being carried.

"Quit it! What are you doing that for?" Asterisk asks, transferring Jordan's body to his main right arm and lifting him to meet his line of sight.

"You want me to quit it? Why would I just quit trying to get loose?!" Jordan asks back in retaliation squirming in the air.

"I get not wanting to be carried, but that isn't going to keep him down long. And I needed to get us out of there." Asterisk throws the still fidgeting Jordan over his shoulder, taking care not to poke him with any of his ridged or sharp edges, and starts to run again in the opposite direction of Lesser, who was likely getting back up from the spell casted on him.

"Us?"

"Well neither of us are going to fend him off by ourselves, and I can't take your point if he's already knocked you out."

"Okay fine, but if you have any ideas besides just running, I'm all ears. Because it seems like the sneaky guy had the same plan, and it definitely didn't work out too well for him." Jordan says, pushing on the giant armor shell in resistance to no avail.

Asterisk simply shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Great," Jordan says sarcastically. "At least tell me what you can do."

Answering, Asterisk picks up his speed, holding onto Jordan even closer so he doesn't get knocked off. "I can rob the energy of anything in motion, and use it to make my attacks stronger. That's what I did to Lesser as he was running to punch you, I took his energy and his body went limp."

"Hm, useful," Jordan raises his eyebrow, slightly surprised, and begins to concoct a makeshift plan. "Well I have sound magic. Like, I can vibrate the molecules in the air to create sound waves."

"You make sound?" Asterisk asks. "Sounds kinda dumb."

"Maybe until you realize that I can make super loud sounds and sonic booms to move fast and hit hard."

"Who cares about being fast when you can't hit hard."

"I literally JUST said I can do that," Jordan repeats, his annoyance for Asterisk growing.

"Pfft, still weak even with sound."

"Okay, enough!" Jordan says, finally being let back down onto solid ground after continuously shifting around.' "You think you're strong? No, Lesser is strong! And fast, and tactical, and sneaky, and can use his magic way better than either of us. He has acid magic, understand? That's how his attack cut you free. He could actually dissolve us into a bubbling pathetic puddle of indistinguishable mush if he wanted to."

"But he wouldn't do that to us, right?"

"No, but that isn't the point I'm trying to make. Lesser is on an entirely different level than us, that's why the academy hired him to mentor us."

Asterisks pauses for a moment, pondering for a solution. "Are there any downsides to magic like that?"

"The potency of his acid is determined by how much alcohol he has consumed, but I don't think I've ever seen him go a day without a drop of booze since I can remember, and his race can't get drunk either, so there's no chances of us fighting a wobbly green giant talking about how much he loves us."

"Giant?" Asterisk sticks out his hand lowering it to where Lesser would stand next to him, and looking down.

"Relatively. I guess you got a point, if anybody's a giant it's you," Looking up at Asterisk, bending his neck back to see his eyes, Jordan stares at the colossal man, his stature slowly bringing an idea to the surface of his mind.

"How do you know so much about his magic anyways? Aren't things like that kept pretty secret?" Asterisk asks, putting his arm back by his side.

"Lesser's my dad, adoptive obviously," Jordan informs his partner.

"Oh... Yeah, adoptive. Totally obvious... I'm adopted too." Asterisk responds, hesitantly but with a confident tone.

"Wow, really?" Jordan asks back, surprised and excited by the fact that he had met someone else with foster parents.

"Very," Asterisk continues.

"Very? Very what, adoptive?" Jordan asks, confused as to what Asterisk was trying to say.

"Yeah, like you said. Obvious, right?"

"Uhh... Not really. It usually isn't just from looking at someone," Jordan replies, giving up on dissecting the conversation he was having, and getting them back on the more important track the would be on. "Look, I came up with something."

"Did you now?" The deep looming voice of Lesser carves its way through the trees, and with a swift spell, attacks Jordan, hitting his right ankle and burning it slightly with the corrosive magic. Lesser shows up, almost out of nowhere, leaping from the dense darkness, appearing just feet away from the two boys. Thrusting his arm forwards, Lesser aims for the gaps in Asterisk's plates, planning to jab him with a magical attack in his exposed skin.

Asterisk isn't fast enough to react and utilize his magic to stop Lesser from striking him, but with the help of a supersonic soundwave Jordan counters the hit, socking Lesser with a similar attack below the ribcage before he can land his. With the first successful hit Lesser is knocked back, stumbling several feet in reverse, however the burning on Jordan's ankle continues to grow, stinging and climbing up the leg.

Jordan suffers the pain, using his leg to perform a hook kick, striking Lesser in the face and knocking him over onto the stump of a cut down tree. This wasn't the first time Jordan had been exposed to Lesser's poison, and as such knew how to handle, but he couldn't risk having Asterisk afflicted.

Bounding immediately back up, pushing off the stump, Lesser raises with an uppercut. This hit actually comes in contact with its target, Lesser's knuckles slamming into Jordan's chin, knocking him back with a powerful jarring sensation. The vision and balance of Jordan return just as Lesser jabs him with his right fist, punching him right in the nose. Eyesight fuzzy and his mouth flooding with the metallic taste of blood, Jordan struggles in the attempt to react to another one of Lesser's jabs, aimed directly for his face, but can't seem to figure out how to move in order to avoid the fight rushing at him. Although, by the time Jordan expected to be hit nothing had happened, and in the second it took for his vision to refocus he realized what had happened.

Lesser was paralyzed, unable to move. However, jumping back to distance himself, Jordan observes that things were not as they seemed or he originally assumed. Next to Lesser, keeping him frozen in place, was Asterisk, not casting a spell, but simply grabbing Lesser's arm with several of his own, intercepting the punch. Proving his bewildering strength, Asterisk, now pulsing with grey energy, throws Lesser by the arm, over his shoulder, and onto the hard ground in one seamless motion.

As Lesser's back collides with the hard dirt the sound of his breath escaping his lungs signaled an opportunity for Jordan. As his teacher tried to catch his breath and regain his footing as swiftly as possible, Jordan yells to his partner.

"Asterisk! The bands, now!" At the call Asterisk extends his reach, his aim laser focused on the bands worn by Lesser.

In defense Lesser raises his hand, releasing a geyser of acid from his spell, hitting the exposed hand of Asterisk who instinctively pulls away. The duo was still empty handed, Asterisk and Jordan now had minor wounds, Lesser was back up as if nothing had just happened to him and smiled with that same devilish look as his spell still flew, aiming towards Jordan.

Unbeknownst to Lesser however, Jordan had accounted for him spewing a stream of his magic in protection, and had actually worked into his plan. Jordan leapt, using his magic to produce a louder boom than usual, causing him to rocket past Lesser, ending up behind him. At the same moment Lesser's acid lands on a tree where Jordan had been standing and begins eating through it, Jordan uses his supersonic speed to chop down a younger tree with a kick, causing it, along with the larger dissolving tree, to fall careening down to where Lesser is standing.

Jordan and Asterisk watch as the two trees descend onto Lesser, each of them rubbing their chemical burns. Looking upwards Lesser stares as the two trunks approach him at high speed. As the smaller, younger tree is right above him, Lesser raises his hand catching it with ease, and using his magic to disintegrate it. Then as the large tree follows behind Lesser waits for the last moment, before using his other hand to knock the humongous plant aside in Asterisk's direction as if it was nothing, ramming the boy and pinning him underneath before he could cancel it out with his magic.

With that Asterisk was down for now, and nothing was separating Jordan with his now wrecked leg, due to the growing burn and kicks, and Lesser once again wore his face of satisfaction and mercilessness, slowly walking over like he did during the beginning of the test, charging up his magic. The mark around Lesser's eye was blinding with so much magical energy flooding out of it, and swirling around his body. The leaves and twigs snap and crumple beneath Lesser's boots, each step bringing him closer to his son, unable to flee this time.

 _Step_

 _Step_

 _Step_

Each stride haunted Jordan, hanging his head down, unable to look his defeat in the eyes, though still tortured by the audible sound of Lesser approaching, until standing before him. Lesser grabs ahold of Jordan by the jaw, lifting his head forcefully so he had to stare at his teacher, taunting him.

"Time's up," And just like that the sound of Lesser's alarm began to blare with enough volume that Genesis and Stryde would had to have heard it go off, calling the group back together. Lesser leaves Jordan for a moment, walking back over to Asterisk, lifting the log off, and assuring that he was alright. Out of his pocket, Lesser pulled a salve in a small bottle, and called for Jordan to come to him, then proceeded to rub it onto their burned hand and leg respectively. "Made it myself, it's perfect for treating my burns. By tomorrow you'll be good as new, you can ask Jordan."

The boy simply nods, remaining silent as Asterisk and Lesser joined in small talk, waiting for the other two to arrive. After several minutes Genesis and Stryde immerge from the woods together, with Genesis assisting the latter. As a group they all eventually gather around Lesser, standing with his arms crossed and observing all of his students.

"I believe I won," Genesis speaks up to Lesser, lifting her left arm, revealing an extra band which she had to have won from a battle with Stryde. "I have the most points, like you said. Plus, I am obviously much better off than them," She wasn't wrong. Though her hair may have been frizzled and her face sweaty, she otherwise did not show much of a sign that she just partook in a training exercise, with her battle-suit appearing just as good as at the beginning, and her demeanor unchanged.

"Quiet for a moment," Lesser responds to the girl, waving his hand to tell her to lower her arm. "I have something to say about each of you, just based off this first assessment."

Lesser unwinds, letting his hair down now that he didn't need it out of his face for the physical activity, and takes a seat on the stump that he had been knocked down to earlier before. "Genesis, you have great skill, amazing even, and I'd be willing to bet that you had some great training when you were younger. However, you are undoubtably the worst member of this team at this moment. All of you are cocky, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but placing yourself above your comrades is unforgivable. You know your weaknesses and yet you disregard them, focusing only on what you know you do well, and what you do better than everyone else. I will tell you up front, if you continue to think like that then you will not be a welcome member of this team. I will drill that lesson into your skull over, and over, and over until it sticks. The only person in this group that is superior is me, and that's why I was put here to teach you."

Genesis was taken aback, having never had anyone talk to her that way, Lesser being a rude awakening. He did not sugar coat the truth, and would tell you what needed to hear, regardless of how it would make you feel. Though she may not agree Genesis stays hush, listening to her teacher's words.

Lesser turns his head and looks over to Stryde, easily the most beaten up of the crew. "You feel if you have something to make up for, whether it's because you are more of a distance fighter, because you don't have flashy magic or skills, or because of something else, I dunno. But you can't do that in a team. Every person plays their part, and that part is vital to the whole. You must not act on your own. If this were real and I truly were an opponent determined to fight you, then you would likely be dead now. Your teammates are here to help you, and they need your help as well, not for you to put them into unnecessary danger,"

Stryde nods, acknowledging his mentor's criticisms, and reflecting on his bruised and battered self.

"Asterisk, you said your human friends call you Aster? Well now you got an elf friend who calls you that. You got a lot of potential kid," Lesser rolls his shoulder that hit the ground when he was thrown, letting out a loud popping sound as the bones moved. "You got a lot of strength behind you, and you know when to use your magic. You just have issues executing things. You're aloof and rely on others for help, which will only hold your team back. Yes, you need to have trust in your team, but there is a balance to it. You gotta learn more about yourself, and have confidence in your abilities, Aster. That's your job as a tank."

As cheerful as ever, Asterisk takes his words with a smile, accepting both the criticism and praise.

"Jordan..." Lesser looks at his son, this time not only speaking as a mentor, but as a parent, on a much deeper and personal level. "You still don't understand why I wanted you to compete in the first place, granted that could be my fault. You have never found any purpose in most things, only doing them because you need to, are told to, or because you just think it's fun. That is how you are with fighting. Look around, each of us have our own reason for being here and wanting to grow, and you need to find yours. I didn't do the best work in the world for the job I wasn't hired to do, but I do think I brought up a decent kid. It comes down to you now, figuring out your purpose, and following that into manhood."

Jordan was actually slightly touched, Lesser didn't speak to him like that often, and yet recently he's began acting sincerer, more mature, being more like an actual father figure.

"At the end of the day this was a training exercise, so it does not matter who would have won. However Genesis, no, it would not have been you. Aster and Jordan together had two points as well. I planned this simulation mission with the intent of observing how you all would interact with each other, and the only real way to win was to team up as a group of four. You would've equaled my point total and increased your chances of taking just a single band off me colossally. Honestly, I'm disappointed, only two of you teamed up and it wasn't even for the correct reason. After this first test, I have only one opinion to give on this team going forward: All of you are failures in my eyes."


End file.
